


The AskDarus Countdown to Christmas Special

by gayliensav



Series: askdarus related fics [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, askdarus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 20,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8725147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayliensav/pseuds/gayliensav
Summary: Once a day, up until December 25th (if possible, we have to remember it’s also finals season for me), a holiday themed oneshot starring Daryl and Jesus will be posted. It will take place in the universe of the askdarus blog meaning that their son will be involved as well (a brief bit of information for those who don't follow is available inside). Of course there’s also the possibility that the members of Team Family and Jesus’ family will make an appearance as well.Will Jesus manage to get Daryl into the holiday spirit so he’ll stop being so grumpy? Will Richard’s first Christmas with his family go off without a hitch? Or will Gregory the grinch steal Christmas?





	1. December 1st: Opener

**Author's Note:**

> This special is from the blog "askdarus" on tumblr. It's the universe this story is set in.
> 
> Background information for those who don't follow the blog:  
> \- Alex is Jesus' ex  
> \- Avery is Jesus' adopted father (who prefers Alex over Daryl)  
> \- Richard (yes, named after Rick) is the son of Crystal and a Savior named Gavin. Crystal was taken hostage by the Saviors from Hilltop before Rick and Co. met them. She eventually started working for points and fell for a Savior, Gavin. Upon finding out she was pregnant, Crystal fled the Sanctuary, not wanting her child to grow up near Negan. Jesus and Daryl, who were out hunting at the time, found her. Crystal died during childbirth and Jesus and a very cautious Daryl Dixon decided to keep the baby.  
> \- Jesus has a few minor health issues that are mentioned due to being born premature. His full story is available at http://askdarus.tumblr.com/characters  
> \- This blog is set in the future. Daryl stayed at the Hilltop after Jesus helped him there. They've been together only three months.
> 
> That's pretty much it.

“Alex says it’s officially December,” Jesus said, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s chest, “It’s officially the holiday season. Isn’t that exciting?”

Daryl rolled his eyes, “Why you gotta talk about ‘im while we’re in bed, huh?” he grumbled, putting his arm around him, “An’ I can tell it’s the holiday season ‘cause it’s cold as fuck.”

“You’re always so cheerful,” Jesus said sarcastically, moving closer to him, “Are you sure he’s warm enough?” he asked, peering over at the crib.

“We got the heat runnin’ in this place and the space heater. He’s fine,” Daryl shrugged, “Already checked on ‘im twice…ya checked once. He’ll be okay.”

Jesus sighed, staring over at the crib, “I want to do something special. It’s his first Christmas. I want to get him gifts and maybe an ornament for the tree.”

“You gonna get your ass bit for a tree,” Daryl snorted, “M’goin’ out there with ya. That nurse can’t do shit to defend ya.”

“I can defend myself, Daryl. We do this every year,” Jesus sighed, “The tree goes in the house and all the kids get to decorate. I think it will brighten Maggie and Sasha’s spirits as well.”

“You not gettin’ your ass bit for a tree would brighten ‘em up too,” Daryl mumbled, starting to rub his shoulder without thinking about it, just to make sure he was warm enough.

Jesus rolled his eyes, “I should have known that you weren’t the holiday type,” he said and sat up suddenly, looking out the window.

“What?” Daryl demanded instantly, sitting up as well, “Everythin’ okay?”

“It’s snowing,” Jesus said happily, getting out of bed.

“You go out there without a coat and I ain’t never lettin’ you leave this trailer ‘til it’s ninety out again,” Daryl snapped instantly.

Paul couldn’t get sick again. Not again.

“I’m getting my coat on and going outside. I want to see the snow,” Jesus said, grabbing the heavier coat he’d gotten from Alex and putting it on.

“Hat,” Daryl called, “And gloves.”

“I’m not a child, Daryl,” Jesus hissed, pulling his beanie on his head and then his gloves onto his hands. He pulled on his boots without lacing them up and walked outside and stood on the porch, watching the bits of white fluff slowly fall to the ground.

Deep down, he was terrified of winter coming. Last year they’d lost people because they weren’t careful. Sure, they had all the preparations ready, but you could never be too sure. Now, especially since they had Richard, they couldn’t be too careful. There was also the matter of his health…hell, Alex would be having a heart attack if he even saw him outside right now.

But he couldn’t help but admit the snow was definitely beautiful. Winter had always been his favorite time of the year when he was younger, despite not being able to enjoy it as much as the other kids his age. It was a fun time. He always knew that Christmas was rolling around when the snow started and got excited. He and his father would pack up and get to spend Christmas in New York with his sister and mother. Despite the cold, it was always fun.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jesus asked when he heard Daryl walk out of the trailer and close the door behind him.

“Yeah, I guess,” Daryl grumbled, “Too cold for this shit.”

“It’s still beautiful,” Jesus said happily, staring out at it. He smiled when he felt Daryl’s arms wrap around him from behind and his partner’s chin rest on his shoulder, “Are you being romantic, Mr. Dixon?”

“Gotta keep your scrawny ass warm,” Daryl shrugged, burying his face against his neck.

“Don’t call me scrawny,” Jesus snapped instantly and felt Daryl smirk against his neck.

“S’beautiful, I guess,” Daryl said, not even looking up at the snow.


	2. December 2nd: The Tree

“Make sure his hat is covering his ears, okay?” Jesus asked anxiously, looking over to where Maggie was sitting with Sasha by the fireplace in Barrington House. They were sitting on the couch, under the blanket, and Maggie was holding the baby.

“You’re going to be gone for less than two hours, we’re inside, and we’re sitting in front of a fireplace,” Sasha deadpanned, “Sweetie, I am not putting that hat on the kid.”

* * *

 

Jesus crossed his arms and sighed, “Fine, but just be careful. He shouldn’t need to eat while we’re gone, but if he gets hungry-”

“We know how to take care of a baby,” Maggie told him, “Judith, remember? And we got one on the way.”

“I know,” Jesus bit his lip nervously. He walked over and kissed Richard’s head softly, making the baby babble happily.

“Let’s go,” Daryl groaned.

“I just worry!” Jesus sighed and looked down at Richard again, “You be good for Aunt Maggie and Aunt Sasha, okay? We’re going to go get you a nice, big tree.”

“Can’t even understand you, he’s a baby,” Daryl grumbled as they walked out the door.

“Studies show that babies respond to their parents’ voices. I’m sure he’d recognize your grunts,” Jesus said simply, walking ahead of him before he could grab him., laughing as he did.

He walked over to Alex’s trailer and knocked on the door softly, rolling his eyes when Daryl waited off of the porch, “You can walk up here, y’know.”

Daryl ignored him.

Alex opened the door, already in his heavy coat and gloves, a hat pulled down over his blond hair, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, Daryl is coming with us,” Jesus explained, “He says he’s going to protect us,” he told him, a smirk on his face.

“Mr. Dixon, Paul and I have done this for two years and this will be our third,” Alex said, walking slowly down the steps, “Trust me, we can handle each other.”

“Yeah, sure you can,” Daryl muttered, grabbing Jesus’ gloved hand with his and walking towards the gates, “We ain’t goin’ far. Ya find one, then we’re goin’ in.”

“The cold and snow actually slows down the walkers,” Jesus explained, waving to Kal and Eduardo as they walked out of the gates, “So they won’t be a problem. We’ll hear them coming!”

“Ain’t what I’m worried about lurkin’ around,” Daryl mumbled, mostly to himself. He was always looking over his shoulder, even though he tried not to. Negan always said he had eyes everywhere and it made him paranoid. What if he somehow had eyes on them? What if he found out about the baby? What if he found out about him being at Hilltop? Would he take him back? Would he hurt Paul if he found out they were…

Daryl snapped out of it when he realized Jesus had let go of his hand and walked ahead, talking to Alex. He quickly jogged to catch up to them, the frozen leaves crunching under his feet. The snow was falling steadily, but not too much. It was definitely sticking though.

“I’m betting an inch by tomorrow,” Alex said, looking at the sky.

“I think two,” Jesus said, looking around the woods, “We need to find a pine tree...they usually grow randomly around here since _someone_ spilled the speeds.”

“Hey!” Alex protested quickly, “You tripped me when you were knocking sticks out of the way. I tripped and it was all your fault.”

“We were planting trees,” Jesus explained to Daryl, “That way, we could eventually have a ton of trees. I read they if they’re healthy enough, they can grow two feet per year. So there should be one at least four feet.”

Daryl rolled his eyes as the two went on, barely listening. He had his crossbow in hand now, realizing that Paul was too busy to hold his hand. He was only half listening as the two started talking about tree biology ( _why the fuck was this his life?_ ). He just kept flicking his eyes in all directions, making sure nothing was coming.

“This should be good,” Jesus said when they got to a tree. It wasn’t very large, it only came up to about his head.

So it definitely wasn’t very tall.

Jesus must have realized what Daryl was thinking because he glared at him, “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Daryl held up his hands defensively and smirked, “Ya always get so mad. S’cute,” he said bluntly, grabbing the ax from the side of Jesus’ bag on his back, “I’ll get it.”

“I can’t recommend that,” Alex interjected, his voice cautious, “With your shoulder, I mean.”

“It’s a damn tree and it ain’t even that big,” Daryl snorted, hanging Jesus his crossbow, “Watch my back while I cut this.”

“Daryl,” Jesus just sighed and shook his head, turning in the other direction.

Daryl got about halfway through the stump before a sharp pain hit his shoulder. He did his best to try to hide it, but a pained hiss escaped his lips.

“Daryl?” Jesus asked urgently. He kneeled down in the snow quickly, his hand on his shoulder, “What is it?”

“My fuckin’...shoulder,” Daryl grumbled grudgingly, gritting his teeth.

“Here, I’ll finish it,” Alex said quickly, “You get up and watch my back, okay? I got this.”

Daryl glared at him momentarily. He annoyance with the nurse gave into the pain he was feeling in his shoulder. He stood up, shoving the ax towards him and ignoring Jesus trying to help him. He snatched his crossbow back quickly.

Jesus didn’t seem phased by his anger and started to rub his shoulder. Daryl did feel a little bad...since Jesus wasn’t phased by his anger that meant he was used to it.

Daryl swallowed and wrapped his good arm around his smaller shoulders, “Y’cold?” he asked quietly.

“No, I’m not,” Jesus smiled at him, “Don’t worry about me so much.”

Daryl grunted in response, glancing back at Alex cutting the free, “Shoulda brought a saw.”

“I think the one we have is rusted,” Jesus sighed, resting his head on his shoulder, “Kal left it out.”

“Asshole,” Daryl mumbled.

“Done!” Alex said happily when the tree fell down.

Daryl went to start helping, ignoring how cold the snow was starting to feel on his hands.

“No,” Alex said quickly, “That will just irritate your shoulder further. Paul and I have it...you just watch our backs.”

Daryl gritted his teeth and let go of Jesus, both hands going back to his crossbow as Jesus grabbed the top end of the tree.

* * *

 

Jesus flopped down on on the couch between Maggie and Sasha, smiling, “I think the tree we got was beautiful. I can’t wait for the kids to see it.”

“You’re too sweet for your own good,” Sasha said bluntly.

“No, no, the sweetest one is right here,” Jesus smiled, taking Richard from Maggie’s arms, “Did you have a good time, sweetie?”

“Ya weren’t even gone an hour,” Maggie laughed, “Ya worry too much.”

“Well, you can never be too careful,” Jesus said, smiling at Richard, “Never too careful, isn’t that right?”

“He okay?” Daryl asked, walking over and sitting in the chair.

“Now you’re both worrying too much,” Sasha laughed, “He’s fine.”

Daryl rolled his eyes, “Whatever,” he said, rubbing his shoulder and wincing, “Shit, this ain’t worth a damn tree.”

“Stop cursing in front of the baby,” Jesus scolded, rolling his eyes, “And you were the one who had to try to cut it down to prove you were better than Alex even though I already love you enough,” he deadpanned.

Daryl glared at him, “Shuddup.”

“The most wonderful time of the year,” Jesus sang sarcastically, earning a middle finger from his partner in response.


	3. December 3rd: Snowball Fight

Daryl was shoveling the porch off when Paul walked outside, clad in his boots, coat, hat, and gloves. That didn’t put Daryl’s worries to rest though, so he instantly wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him back.

“Daryl,” Paul groaned. He really could shake Daryl off if he wanted to, but he just let his partner have his way.

“Ya ain’t gonna get sick again,” Daryl grunted, “Ya almost died last time.”

“I didn’t almost  _ die _ , Daryl,” Paul rolled his eyes, “It was a cold.”

Daryl mumbled something under his breath and let him go, “Sick’a worryin’ ‘bout ya,” he said, his voice quiet.

Paul crossed his arms, “Don’t make me feel guilty,” he sighed, “And stop shoveling the porch every five seconds, it’s fine.”

“Do it once an hour an’ it won’t pile up like your dad’s,” Daryl told him, looking over at the porch of the trailer beside theirs. It was covered in snow from the inch they’d gotten last night. Daryl had heard the wind blowing because the screen door on their trailer had opened and was swinging back and forth, hitting the trailer. He had to get up and shut it before it woke up Paul or Richard and secured it and their other door before crawling back in bed. He didn’t even notice their own porch being covered, let alone Avery’s.

“I’ll go clear it off,” Paul sighed, going to walk off the porch, “I doubt he’ll be outside today anyways.”

“Nah,” Daryl called, waving his hand, “I got it. Where were ya goin’ anyways?”

“Richie’s food is getting a little low in there,” Paul said, biting his lip nervously, “Probably enough for about three more days. I hate to take more-”

“We got a long time ‘til Maggie's is born ta find an’ make more,” Daryl said, pointing at the house, “Go grab some more. Maggie ain’t gonna care.”

“Okay,” Paul said, tossing him the baby monitor, “Listen for him, okay? He was napping, but-”

“Stop worryin’ so much,” Daryl snorted, rolling his eyes and went back to shoveling. Normally, especially with how paranoid he’d gotten, he would have saw what was coming next. But he wasn’t expecting a snowball to the side of his face.

He blinked in shock for a second and wiped the remainder of the snow from his face with a gloved hand and looked to where Paul stood there, his arms crossed.

“The fuck?” Daryl sputtered.

“Don’t say I worry too much about our baby when you worry about me going outside in the winter,” Paul said simply before turning around and walking towards the house.

Daryl tried to think about things rationally, weighing his options. Risk Paul getting sick or revenge?

They had the medicine to deal with it and it was just a little snow.

Revenge it was!

Daryl kneeled down and made a snowball quickly. He rolled it in his hands as he watched Paul walk and hurled it at the back of his head when he was sure he had good aim. It hit spot on, making the scout freeze in shock.

Paul whipped around, “Daryl!” he yelled at him.

Daryl smirked when he saw Paul make another snowball and ducked down behind the steps, going quick enough that Paul didn’t see him while he was busy with the snow.

“Daryl?” Paul called, looking around.

Daryl watched him through the steps as he walked closer to the porch. He leaned around and threw the snowball, hitting Paul in the side of the face.

“Asshole!” Paul yelled, throwing the snow in his face as well.

Before Daryl could make another snowball or even react, Paul had tackled him to the ground. He was lying on his back in the snow, staring up at his partner. He was  _ cold as fuck _ but Paul was warm on top of him. The archer rolled them over so Paul was in the snow and they fought for a few minutes, trying to make more ammunition before the other pinned them down.

Paul eventually got the upper hand and straddled his hips and pinned down his gloved hands quickly so Daryl didn’t try to shove him off, “This mean I win?” he asked, smiling.

“Pretty short fight,” Daryl said, staring up at him. His partner was breathing heavily with red cheeks and his hair was a little damp from the snow now. Daryl made a mental note to make sure he warmed up after this.

Paul shrugged, “That’s usually how it goes when we fight,” he smirked, “I’ve beaten you twice now, Dixon.”

“Ya just get the jump on me,” Daryl said, pulling his right hand free from Paul’s grip and grabbed the front of Paul’s coat and pulled him into a kiss. A few months ago he’d be flinching back from the contact and now when he was with Paul...he felt so  _ right _ . They fit together and they were comfortable.

“Mhmm,” Paul said, humming happily against his lips.

Daryl was so wrapped up in him that he didn’t notice Paul’s free hand grab a handful of snow and shove it in his face.

Daryl grabbed him before he could run away this time and pinned him down in the snow, “Nice try,” he grinned down at him, “Guess I got the jump on ya this time.”

“Guess so,” Paul smirked, “And now what, Mr. Dixon?”

Daryl was about to suggest they head inside when he heard a trailer door slam open and the yelling start.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Avery yelled, standing on his porch, “Are you fucking insane?!”

Daryl groaned and rested his forehead on Paul’s shoulder for a moment before getting up and offering a hand to help Paul up.

Paul took his hand quickly and sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ ta be sorry for,” Daryl grumbled as Avery continued to yell.

“He’s going to get sick, Dixon!” Avery yelled from his porch.

“Ya know what?” Daryl growled and leaned down, grabbing two handfuls of snow and making them into a ball quickly.

“Daryl,” Paul said quickly, “Daryl, what are you doing?”

Daryl hurled the snowball at Paul’s father, hitting him right in the face. He grabbed Paul’s hand and drug him to the trailer, grabbing the most-likely water damaged baby monitor on the way. He closed the door softly behind them and locked it so they didn’t wake Richard.

“You just...Daryl, you just threw a snowball at my father,” Paul said and Daryl was pretty sure he was in a state of shock. “He’s going to kill you. He has _guns_.”

“Heat a the moment kinda thing,” Daryl said, taking the hat off of Paul’s head, “Go get in the shower and get warmed up, I’ll check on the kid.”

“You worry about me too much,” Paul said, taking off his gloves, “And you should be worried about my father coming in our trailer in the middle of the night with a shotgun now.”

“Ain’t worried,” Daryl mumbled, trying to dry off the baby monitor, “Just get your clothes off.”

“Ooh, I love it when you get all demanding,” Paul smirked.

Daryl threw a towel at him.


	4. December 4th: Mistletoe

“You’re gonna fall.”

Paul rolled his eyes when he heard Daryl’s voice behind him. He was in the main room of Barrington House on a stepladder, hanging a wreath over the fireplace. He was just a few inches shy of being able to reach the hook Alex had it on last year.

“It’s not a very far distance if I do,” he said, standing on his tiptoes and reaching as high as he could. The bigger ladder was out in the shed and he’d already been too cold just walking over to the house with Richard.

“Rather ya didn’t fall,” Daryl said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he walked over. He glanced over at Richard who was lying on a blanket on the floor as he did, “He okay on there?”

“Yeah, it’s a thick blanket, I made sure,” Paul smiled down at him, “He’s loving the plastic cups for some reason.”

“Judy does too,” Daryl snorted, standing beside him, “Weird kids.”

“Daryl, don’t call our baby weird,” Paul sighed and went back to trying to hang the wreath.

“I ain’t catchin’ ya if ya f-” Daryl was cut off when Paul lost his footing on the ladder and almost fell. Daryl’s arms instantly shot out and grabbed him just before his head smacked into the brick on the fireplace.

“You were saying?” Paul asked, looking up at him with that  _ stupid smirk _ on his face.

“Go sit with the kid and I’ll hang the damn thing,” Daryl sighed, putting his boyfriend on his feet, and grabbing the wreath off the floor, “Gotta do everything,” he mumbled under his breath and climbed on the step ladder.

“Aw, Daryl, you saved me,” Paul said, sitting down on the floor with Richard and pulling him into his lap, “Now we’re even.”

“Shuddup,” Daryl snorted, hanging the wreath and getting down, “You always deck this place out in this much shit?”

“Yes,” Paul smiled, “It’s for the kids, Daryl. Though I may be going a little overboard because ours is involved now,” he looked down at Richard, “Isn’t that right, baby? You’re going to have the best first Christmas ever.”

Richard pulled on his hair in response.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” Paul smiled, kissing his cheek.

Daryl walked over and sat down beside him, leaning his back against the couch.

Richard’s brown eyes practically lit up when he saw Daryl and he reached for him from Paul’s arms.

“Hey, little man,” Daryl said, taking him from his partner’s arms, “What’s up?”

“I’m going to finish decorating,” Paul said, pressing a kiss to the side of Daryl’s head before getting up and going over to where the boxes were stacked in the corner.

“Where’s Maggie and Sasha?” Daryl asked, looking over at him.

“Doctor’s appointment,” Paul shrugged.

“And you ain’t there up her ass?” Daryl snorted. Paul had went to all of Maggie’s doctor’s appointments after they got close.

“I want to surprise them with the decorations when she gets back,” Paul smiled at him, “I think it will brighten their spirits.”

Daryl didn’t want to tell him that some lights and wreaths were going to make up for the fact that Abe and Glenn died (and that it was his fault) because Paul seemed to think he was doing good. So he went back to talking to the babbling baby in his arms.

“Ooh, Daryl, look!” Paul said happily when he found something in the box. He walked over and sat down beside him and held out a bunch of fake leaves on a red ribbon.

“The hell is that?” Daryl snorted.

“Mistletoe!” Paul smiled, holding it over their heads, “Now you have to kiss me!”

“I ain’t kissin’ you ‘cause of a fake plant,” Daryl snorted and looked down at Richard, “Your daddy’s bein' dumb.”

“Don’t undermine me in front of our son,” Paul groaned and looked to Richard, “Richie, these are the rules. You have to kiss anyone under the mistletoe.”

Richard stared at him blankly.

“Thinks it’s dumb too,” Daryl snorted.

Paul crossed his arms and sighed, “You’re being mean, Daryl. It’s tradition.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and leaned over, kissing his cheek, “Now shuddup.”

Paul held up the mistletoe again, “I wasn’t holding the mistletoe and that wasn’t a real kiss.”

Daryl grumbled something under his breath and leaned over, pecking his lips, “Now shuddup.”

“Listen, it’s almost Christmas and you’re being really grumpy,” Paul sighed, “And I fully intend to get you out of this mood at all costs. So get out of the mood or suffer the consequences to come.”

“Ain’t even grumpy,” Daryl snorted.


	5. December 5th: Christmas Cookies

“Ya just hid all this stuff away all year?” Daryl asked, watching as Paul put a bunch of stuff from their storage closet into a large bag. Their closet usually held weapons or extra blankets, but Daryl never thought to check under those blankets.

“If we actually ended up needing them, I would reveal their existence,” Paul shrugged, “I’m thankful for this year. Things really weren’t too bad.”

Daryl grunted in response, holding the bag as Paul continued to put cooking materials in it, “We doin’ all this cookin’ in here?”

“No,” Paul shook his head, “Barrington has a huge kitchen, it will be easier if we do it there.”

Daryl just nodded, continuing to hold the bag as his partner continued to pile things in it, “Damn, you got this shit hidden good.”

“It’s a nice surprise for the kids, trust me,” Paul smiled at him and stood up, “Can you take that over to the house while I get Richie ready for the walk over? Maggie should be in the kitchen with Alex and Sasha. They’re supposed to help us.”

Daryl groaned, “Paul, _why_?”

“Hey,” Paul said, his hands on his hips, “I am going to be spending time with your family for at least  _half of a year_. You can put up with Alex for a few hours while we make cookies.”

Daryl grumbled under his breath, “Make sure you put the hat on the kid's head,” he mumbled as he walked out, carrying the bag as he did.

Fucking  _ Alex _ .

Daryl jogged over to the house quickly. While it wasn’t very far, it was  _ freezing _ out. He didn’t want to be out there any longer than he had to. He walked in the house and wiped his shoes on the mat before walking in and down the hallway to the kitchen.

“Oh, he kept them!” Alex said happily when he saw him, “That’s great, thank you, Daryl.”

“Where’s Maggie and Sasha?” Daryl demanded, looking around.

“Oh, they should be down soon,” Alex waved his hand, “Come on, help me set up.”

Daryl gritted his teeth and started to take things from the bag, ignoring Alex’s eyes on him.

“Daryl, I get the feeling that you don’t like me,” Alex said suddenly.

Daryl didn’t answer.

“And...as _sweet_ as it is that you’re so concerned about Paul, you have nothing to worry about,” Alex told him, a polite smile still firmly planted on his face, “I’m with Wes, you’re with him. I have no intentions of going after him...besides, he’s completely in love with you.”

Daryl stayed silent, continuing to take things out of the bag and gritting his teeth. His insecurities were flaring up like they always did around the nurse, despite being reassured all the time. He couldn’t help it.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” Alex cleared his throat, “I mean...not that we’re fighting. I really don’t want to fight you because I’m pretty sure you’d knock me on my ass in an instant. I’m not a fighter, Daryl...and I don’t intend on fighting you for someone who isn’t even in love with me.”

Before Daryl could even decide if he was actually going to _acknowledge_ the nurse, Maggie and Sasha came downstairs. Maggie was still wearing some of Paul’s clothes...it was honestly hard to tell, since they were pretty much the same size. They’d tried to find more clothes on one of their runs to no avail, despite getting some pretty good hauls.

“Where’s Richie?” Sasha asked instantly.

“Ain’t even happy ta see me,” Daryl teased, “Only care about the baby. I see how it is,” he crossed his arms, “Paul’s bringin’ him over, made me do all the heavy liftin’.”

“Now, now, don’t go giving me a bad name,” Paul said as he walked in the kitchen, Richard in his arms. Their beanies almost matched because Daryl  _ might _ have took a little extra time looking for one like that while they were at the store.

“There he is,” Maggie said, taking Richard from Paul instantly, “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Wow, they really only care about the baby,” Paul said, crossing his arms.

“Oh, sweetheart, we care about you too,” Maggie said sarcastically and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek.

Paul wiped his cheek, rolling his eyes, “Okay, people, let’s get cooking.”

In that moment, Daryl realized he had no idea what the hell he was doing.

* * *

Daryl leaned on the counter, holding Richard while everyone went about baking. Dante and Wes had showed up and eventually Aaron and Eric too.

As he looked down at his son, Daryl realized that he had just about as much knowledge of baking as the baby in his arms did...hell, maybe less.

Everyone else was doing so good and working together to get the stuff done for the kids and he was _standing there_ clueless with the kid in his arms.

Daryl walked out of the room quickly when Paul had his back turned and went into the living room, sitting down on the couch that was in front of the fireplace.

“Just gonna hang out with you,” Daryl said, lying back on the couch and letting his son lay on him, “Ya get me, kid.”

Richard babbled happily, trying to grab at his hair.

“‘Ey, I ain’t the one who let’s ya do that,” Daryl said, grabbing his tiny fist gently and moving it away from his head.

Richard’s dark brown eyes caught the lights on the tree. There were still no ornaments on it yet because Paul wanted to have it be a huge event for the kids, but he must have put the lighting on it at some point.

“Ya wanna see the lights?” Daryl asked, getting up slowly and holding Richard close as they walked over. Babies were allowed to be around lights, right?

He was really clueless, he decided.

“Daryl?” Paul asked suddenly, walking in the room. Daryl winced slightly at the look of concern that was all over his face. He _hated_ that look.

“Kids allowed around these, right?” Daryl asked, looking down at Richard as he stared at the blue light.

“Of course, unless you’re planning on letting him eat them,” Paul laughed and walked over, “You okay?” he asked quietly, “You kind of just...disappeared. I thought we were having a good time.”

“Nah,” Daryl mumbled, “Didn’t know what I was doing. Just gonna get in the way. Ya go bake, I’ll hang with the little guy.”

“No,” Paul shook his head and grabbed his free hand, “This is our first Christmas, Daryl. Where you go, I go. There are plenty of people to bake cookies. Richie wants to look at the lights.”

Daryl looked down at their linked hands and stroked his thumb over Paul’s for a moment before turning back to Richard, “We’ll just eat them cookies later, huh?”

Richard made a babbling sound in response, Daryl was pretty sure it was a yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter might be a TINY BIT late because I have to work later, but I'll try my best to get it up before midnight.


	6. December 6th: The Mitten

****“Can’t even understand ya. He's a baby,” Daryl mumbled, watching Paul sit on the couch with Richard in his lap. The baby had his back against Paul’s chest and Paul was holding an old looking book.

Paul rolled his eyes and opened the book, wincing as the cover cracked from lack of use, “Come sit with us and listen to the book, Daryl.”

Daryl grumbled under his breath and locked the door before flopping down beside him. He rested his head on his shoulder so he could actually see the pictures, smiling when Richard looked up at him with a big smile on his face.

Paul cleared his throat, starting to read, _“The bear was cold. The bear got into the warm mitten.”_

Daryl went to say something.

“Daryl, please,” Paul sighed, “I know. It’s a kid’s book, okay?” he looked down at Richard and pointed to the picture, “Do you see the bear, sweetheart? He went in the mitten.”

Richard’s little hand slapped at the picture, making noises as he did.

 _“The fox was cold, too,”_ Paul continued to read, _“He got into the mitten with the bear.”_

Daryl moved closer to Paul when he realized the skin on his partner’s neck was pretty cold. He shook his head and got up.

“Daryl, where are you going?” Paul sighed, “We’re-”

“Gettin’ a damn blanket, calm down,” Daryl said, going to the closet and grabbing one of the spares, wrapping it around Paul’s shoulders, “Gonna check the heat when we’re done,” he told him and sat down

Paul just nodded and moved the blanket so it was around Daryl’s shoulders and cuddled up to his partner before continuing to read, _“Squish, squash, squeeze. Ah!”_

Daryl couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the voice Paul used while reading the ridiculous words. He really did try to conceal it for about .5 seconds before he just let loose. Richard started to giggle as well.

Paul pursed his lips, trying to conceal his smile as he continued to read, _“The rabbit was cold. She got into the warm mitten, too.”_

Snowball jumped up on the back of the couch, practically coming out of nowhere.

“Hey,” Daryl said, petting his black fur softly, “Wanna get in on this?”

Snowball meowed in response and must have decided no, she did not want in on it because she opted to lay on the back of the couch.

 _“Squish, squash, squeeze, ah!”_ Paul continued to read, making both Daryl and Richard laugh again, _“The blue jay was cold, too. He got into the mitten after the rabbit. Squish, squash, squeeze, ah!”_

“Paul, ya gotta...ya gotta stop,” Daryl said, trying not to laugh again despite their son laughing as he looked at the pictures.

Paul ignored him and continued to read the book, _“The ant was cold. The ant got into the mitten. Squish, squash, squeeze...KABOOM!”_ he yelled, making Richard laugh again when Paul tickled his sides.

Daryl smiled, watching the two of them. He glanced out the window and saw the snow was coming down pretty hard. He knew he was going to have to go and check the heat eventually.

Just not yet.

Daryl leaned over to the space heater and turned it up a few notches before wrapping his arm around Paul, pulling both his partner and his son closer to him.

“Did you like the book, Daryl?” Paul asked, looking over at him, “Richie did, didn’t he?”

Richard ignored him, still looking at the pictures in the book.

“Yeah, whatever,” Daryl grumbled, pressing his face against Paul’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything Paul read from the book is from “The Mitten” adaption by Katalina Page.


	7. December 7th: The Hat

Daryl liked sleeping in. Hell, he just liked _sleep_ after everything.

All their shifts took place in the afternoon if they even had any (and usually it was just garden or hunting duty, so that was out of the question at the moment), so it was usually peaceful in the morning. Paul woke up a little earlier than him, habitually, but usually got up to check on Richard, go to the bathroom, and crawl back into bed with him. Even though the house had heat now and they almost always had a space heater in their bedroom, Paul still got cold sometimes...which always made Daryl worry about him getting sick.

Daryl moved to lay on his side, looking over at the crib that was across the room and smiled slightly when he saw Richard still asleep through the bars of the crib. He groaned quietly and rubbed his eyes, dragging himself out of bed. He stretched and winced when his shoulder popped.

Paul must have been cooking, because the smell of eggs cooking hit his nose.

He walked out and saw his partner in their small kitchen area, cooking...with a Santa hat on.

“Morning, Daryl,” Paul said happily.

Daryl stared at him for a moment before shaking his head, “M’goin’ back ta bed," he told him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. The guy was determined to make him like Christmas. He didn't exactly have the happiest memories.

“I’m not giving you any food if you go back to bed,” Paul called to his retreating partner.

Daryl grumbled under his breath, “Ya look like a dork,” he mumbled, walking up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. He rested his chin on his shoulder and turned his face so he could press a kiss against his neck. It was an ulterior motive, really, he just wanted to see if he was cold.

And hold him.

“Too early for that,” Paul said under his breath, leaning back against him and relaxing.

“Wasn’t tryin’,” Daryl mumbled against his neck and went back to resting his chin on his shoulder when he was satisfied that his partner was warm enough right now.

“Not too early for kissing though,” Paul said quietly and moved away before Daryl could try, “After you brush your teeth.”

“Fuckin’ preppy little…” Daryl mumbled under his breath as he stalked to the bathroom.

He came out a few minutes later and watched Paul put the eggs on two plates. He made sure the scout had safely put the pan in the sink and wasn’t carrying anything when he walked up to him and pulled him against his chest.

Paul laughed quietly and leaned up, pressing his lips against his, “Love you, Daryl," he told him. He said it a lot easier and more often than Daryl did.

Daryl hummed in response and grabbed the hat from his head, chucking it across the room.

“My hat,” Paul sighed, pulling away, “Daryl!”

Daryl just kissed him again, smiling against his lips. He never felt as happy as he did with Paul. His family, sure, they would always make him feel happy and safe...but fuck, _Paul_. He never felt like he fit so perfectly with anyone before. He felt like they were practically made for each other.

Daryl pulled away, “Love you,” to told him, his voice quiet. He might love him and Paul knew that, but that didn’t make it any easier to say out loud. He wasn’t used to that kind of stuff.

Paul smiled and kissed him again before walking over to where the hat had landed and put it back on his head, “It’s Christmas time, don’t be rude.”


	8. December 8th: Warm

Paul left before Daryl woke up this morning. He knew his partner needed a lot of rest, even after he’d been out of the Sanctuary for so long. He needed his rest, especially since he pushed himself so hard all the time.

They needed food again, so he hurried over to Barrington before Daryl or Richie even woke up and snatched some from the pantry. Normally he’d stop and talk to Sasha or Maggie, but he was still half asleep and in his pajamas. He didn’t realize how cold the walk over or back would be and he figured he could just hurry over and back to the trailer.

Paul got into the trailer and locked the door behind him. He walked over and put the eggs in the fridge. He pulled his beanie off of his head and shook it around, trying to get all the snow off of it, then sighed when he saw how wet it was. He pulled his coat off and put it on the hanger before going back to their bedroom.

Paul peered into the crib and smiled when he saw Richie was still asleep.

He always knew he wanted to have a baby, even when he was a teenager. The idea of having a family always made him happy. Now he had one with Daryl and he’d never been happier.

Somehow the end of the world had been one of the best things to ever happen to him.

Paul got up when he heard Daryl move around in their bed and crawled over him, doing his best not to jostle his partner as he did. He pulled the covers up and sighed in relief at the warmth.

“Where’d ya go?” Daryl asked, still half asleep.

“We needed eggs,” Paul said softly, moving closer to him. He put his head on his shoulder and smiled when Daryl instantly put his arm around him.

They had made so much progress since they first got together a short time ago. They learned what the other liked and disliked, and they learned how to deal with each other on their good and bad days.

Daryl always said it was like they just  _ fit _ .

“Coulda done it later,” Daryl said, opening his eyes now. He pulled the blanket up more so it was to Paul’s shoulder, “Now you’re all cold and shit.”

“You make me warm,” Paul told him and kissed his cheek.

“Dork,” Daryl grumbled under his breath and closed his eyes again.


	9. December 9th: Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just BARELY made this in time.

“What you doin’?”

Paul smiled when he heard Daryl’s voice behind him. He was in the closet - _ironic_ \- getting a few boxes out that had ornaments for their small tree in the trailer. They hadn’t gotten down to decorating the one in Barrington House, they wanted everyone to be together.

“We need to put up the tree,” Paul said, dragging a box out of the closet.

“We got one in the house,” Daryl said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “Don’t gotta do all this in here too.”

“I like Christmas,” Paul smiled, “And I _love_ my family,” he smiled, picking up the box. He leaned up and pressed his lips against Daryl’s gently, “C’mon, come help me!”

“M’gonna...check on the baby or somethin’,” Daryl said awkwardly.

“He’s napping, come on, help me,” Paul sighed, sitting down on the floor and opening the box, “Please, Daryl.”

Daryl looked down at his partner. The scout wasn’t even looking at him, but he could tell that he was really excited for this. He didn’t know _why_. He knew he didn’t have a good start to his childhood, like him. He hated Christmas because it reminded him of what he didn’t get...of the family he could have had.

Daryl watched Paul excitedly take the small tree out of the box.

The family that he had now though…

Daryl sat down quickly with him and started to take the pieces out of the box. He smiled when he saw a bright smile on Paul’s face. He leaned over and kissed him softly.

Paul smiled as he pulled away, “What was that for?”

“Just...love ya,” Daryl mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up. He ducked his head and went to taking the pieces out, “Dunno...how this shit goes together. S’kinda small.”

“It’s just to sit on the table. We don’t need a huge one because we have the one at Barrington,” Paul explained, “But it’ll be enough to Christmas up the house.”

“‘Christmas up’?” Daryl snorted.

“Yes,” Paul said, pushing the box away, “I’ll show you how to put it together,” he said happily, “That way you can always put it up even if…” he trailed off and cleared his throat, “Anyways, let me show you.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Daryl said seriously, scowling at him.

Paul leaned over the pieces and kissed him softly as an apology. He pursed his lips and went back to showing Daryl how to put the two pieces together. He smiled down at the small tree, “There,” he said happily, “It’s pre-lit, so we can just plug it in and put a few ornaments on it,” he told him, putting the small tree on the counter and plugging it into the outlet, “There!” he said happily.

“Done with that then,” Daryl said, flopping back on the couch.

“Not quite yet,” Paul smiled, “I have four more boxes!”

An hour later, the trailer was completely decked out; Paul had lights hanging from the kitchen cabinets -which included Daryl holding onto him while he stood on their step ladder- along with cotton on top of the cabinets to make it look like fake snow. He had two wreaths hanging on their wall in place of the two paintings they usually had and a Santa sign hanging on the door.

“There!” Paul said happily, “It looks great!”

Daryl was pretty sure he was going to get a cavity from all the sweetness.

“It’s our first Christmas together,” Paul said, wrapping his arms around his neck and looking up at him, “Our little home with our family.”

Daryl looked down at him, resisting the urge to tell him about how it was too sweet and weird for his taste because _Paul_ looked so sweet and _excited_. He smiled at him, “Looks great.”


	10. December 10th: Fireplace

“Ya goin’ home tonight, Daryl?” Maggie laughed, getting up from the couch as she marked a page in the book she’d been reading. She smiled, looking down at Daryl. He had his arm around Paul and his partner’s head was on his shoulder. Their baby was in Paul’s arms and he was asleep, just like Paul.

“Don’t look like it,” Daryl mumbled, looking down at the two of them. He glanced over at the window, “Snowin’ too bad anyways,” he said, giving a one shouldered shrug so he didn’t jostle Paul or Richie.

“Here,” Maggie said, grabbing a blanket from the cabinet and draping over them, making sure she didn’t toss the blanket over their baby, “There ya go.”

“Thanks,” Daryl gave her a half smile and looked down at them again.

_ Holy shit, I got a family, _ Daryl thought, blinking in shock.

“‘Night, Daryl,” Maggie told him, “I’ll wake ya up before Gregory gets down here, if ya aren’t up,” she called.

“Thanks,” Daryl repeated, not taking his eyes off of Paul’s sleeping form. The fire was the only source of light now and it somehow made his partner look even more beautiful.

Beautiful? He was Daryl  _ fucking  _ Dixon, since when did he call people beautiful?

_ Since Paul… _

Daryl smiled when Richie shifted around in his sleep. His tiny fists gripped onto Daryl’s shirt in the tightest grip he could manage...which wasn’t very tight because he was a baby.

Daryl slowly took Paul’s beanie off of his head and sat it on the table. He gently brushed his hair out of his face and cracked a smile, staring down at him and their son. He let Paul’s head fall onto his shoulder. The archer leaned down and kissed his cheek softly and secured his free arm around Richard.

Daryl finally tore his eyes away from the two and stared out the window. It was snowing heavily now and it would be hell just walking back to the trailer. Maybe it was better to just to stay here.

His eyes fell on the fireplace and he studied it. The fire would probably be able to keep them warm most of the night, on top of the blanket.

Daryl put his head on top of Paul’s and closed his eyes. He doubted he’d get any sleep with Richard in his arms and not securely in his crib, but he wouldn’t mind holding them all night.


	11. December 11th: Waiting

“Daryl, please make sure you don’t go any further than the nearest store,” Paul told him, looking down at a paper, “It’s about two miles up the road. Get what you guys need and come back. I don’t want either of you screwing around in this weather.”

Daryl watched his partner as he rambled. They were standing at the gates, waiting for Paul to  _ finish rambling. _ He glanced over and saw Dante, who was leaning on the car and looking impatient. Paul had made them both bundle up, so his scouting partner for the day had a hat pulled down over his black hair and a heavy coat on. Daryl had the same...minus the hat. He refused to wear the hat.

“We ain’t goin’ that far,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around his bundled up partner, “We’re gonna be back in prolly under an hour. Stop worryin’.”

“I just…” Paul trailed off, not looking up at him.

“I know,” Daryl nodded, “I’ll be okay.”

Paul sighed and rested his head on his shoulder for a moment before pulling away, “Okay, you two. Be safe.”

“Mhmm,” Daryl hummed, getting in the car with Dante.

* * *

Paul stared out the window at the snow, watching the gate impatiently. Daryl had only been gone a half an hour, but that didn’t make him worry any less. Sure, the shop was a ways away and that wasn’t even counting the time it took to scavenge the little bit of stuff the store probably had left.

But that didn’t make him worry any less.

“You need to stop staring out the window,” Sasha said, grabbing Paul’s shoulder and making him turn around, “Come on, he’ll be fine.”

Paul pursed his lips and followed her to the living room. He sat down on the couch and instantly picked up Richie from Maggie’s arms. He leaned back and took a shaky breath, “I-I know we need medicine and bandages, especially, but I’m worried this is just a tragedy in the making,” he admitted quietly, glancing over at Sasha and Maggie for a moment, “Man leaves family with a new baby a few weeks from Christmas on an important mission and dies?” he sighed, “Tragic Hallmark movie in the making,” he mumbled, “And who would I have a love story with? There aren’t many gay guys around and I’m sure as hell not trying with Alex again,” he rambled, “And I-”

“Jesus!” Maggie cut him off, “Breathe.”

Paul took a shaky breath and focused his attention back on Richie, “I’m sorry...this is just the first time either of us have went on something like this since we got Richie,” he said quietly, smiling and making a funny face at the baby, causing him to giggle and reach for his hair.

Paul pursed his lips, “I need to distract myself,” he glanced over at the lit tree, “Maybe we’ll get the kids together to decorate the tree in a few days…” he trailed off and sighed, leaning back.

“Jesus,” Gregory said, walking in the room, “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” Paul mumbled, “You really didn’t have to look too far,” he cleared his throat and turned to look at him, “What can I help you with?”

“Oh,” Gregory said when he saw the baby in his arms, “You’re still doing that.”

“Doin’ what?” Maggie demanded before Paul could, glaring at Gregory.

_ If looks could kill, _ Paul thought to himself.

“I’m just saying…” Gregory sighed when he saw the look on Maggie’s face, “That isn’t his child. Paul, I know you liked Crystal, but you don’t have to-”

“He’s my child,” Paul cut him off, a glare on his face, “Mine and Daryl’s. It’s called the adoption process, Gregory, it existed before the world went to hell and it does now too,” he snapped, “So I suggest you stop acting like he isn’t mine.”

“Jesus,” Maggie said softly, “It’s okay.”

Paul swallowed and turned away from Gregory, turning his attention back to Richie.

“Jesus…” Gregory cleared his throat, “I really didn’t mean to offend you.”

Paul rolled his eyes and didn’t answer him. Hell, he didn’t even look at him.

“Now,” Gregory sighed, “The reason I was looking for you...I was wondering if you could add something to your list for next time you go out-”

“We don’t do many runs in the winter, Gregory,” Paul said, taking a deep breath to compose himself, “But if it’s priority, we’ll add it to the list. What did you need?”

“I was wondering if you could possibly see if you could find any alcohol,” Gregory said, trying to sound casual about it, “Since you lost all of mine.”

Paul was really glad Daryl wasn’t here right now. His partner had a shorter fuse than he did and he’d probably have knocked Gregory on his ass by now.

“Are you kidding me?” Sasha demanded, “You lost your booze because you tried to sell us out!” she yelled.

Richie immediately started crying and Paul sighed.

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” Sasha sighed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Paul said, standing up carefully, “I’m going to go and find something to do and probably put him down for a nap, I think,” he mumbled and walked up to Gregory, “No, I will not be finding you _anything_. Even if I did, it wouldn’t go to you,” he snapped before walking away from him.

* * *

“There we go,” Paul said, gently putting Richie down in his crib, a small smile on his face when Richie immediately let out a tired yawn and his eyes drooped closed. Richie was more well-behaved than he was as a child. He barely remembered his childhood, but he knew he was a difficult baby.

After that…

Paul shook his head and turned the space heater on before flopping on the couch. He grabbed the book that Daryl had left on the couch and smiled when he saw it was Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Daryl tried to act like he didn’t get into the series when he first started reading it because Paul practically  _ begged him _ , but Paul knew Daryl was.

Daryl.

Paul wasn’t sure if he was just over-worrying or if he was experiencing separation anxiety.

He jumped up quickly when he heard a soft knock on his door and opened it. He didn’t get excited, because he knew there was no way Daryl had returned back this early.

“Hey, there,” Aaron said, greeting Paul with a happy smile.

Paul looked over and Eric waved at him happily, “Hey, guys, come on in,” he said, stepping aside, “What’s going on?”

“Well,” Eric said, stepping inside, “We know this is the first time you haven’t gone on a run with Daryl.”

“And we kind of understand the feeling,” Aaron explained, “Eric and I used to scout all the time, but then Eric hurt himself and we decided it was best that we didn’t do that anymore.”

“And I remember just worrying about him when he went on his first run without me the  _ entire time _ ,” Eric rolled his eyes, “It was ridiculous, really. It was just a simple run.”

“We figured we’d keep you company until he got back,” Aaron shrugged.

Paul smiled softly, “You guys are really the best,” he laughed quietly, “Um...just take a seat there, move any books Daryl left,” he said, gesturing to the couch, “We have a ton of Christmas cookies, actually, if you want any. We’re saving them for when the kids decorate the tree.”

“Oh, they turned out okay, right?” Aaron asked, “The most we know how to cook is spaghetti and that’s easy...we were just trying to follow Maggie’s lead.”

“Aren’t we always?” Eric laughed.

“They actually turned out pretty good, judging by the amount Daryl has consumed since we brought them home,” he rolled his eyes, putting a plate on the table with shaky hands.

“Whoa, whoa,” Aaron said quickly, “Are you okay? I know you’re worried, but-”

“I’m not…” Paul trailed off and sighed, “Look, I’m not the healthiest person and the cold doesn’t make it much better.”

“Is it serious?” Eric asked suddenly.

“No, no,” Paul waved his hand dismissively, “I’ve always been like this, really. It’s nothing to worry about. I just have to make sure I don’t get sick, I have a really weak immune system,” he explained, “Thank you for your concern though.”

“Hey, we want you sticking around,” Eric said, taking a cookie from the plate, “You make Daryl happy.”

Paul smiled, trying his hardest not to start blushing, “I do?”

“Of course,” Aaron laughed quietly, “We haven’t known Daryl long, but it’s nice to see him this happy. He was really closed and reserved when we met him.”

“Oh, please, that’s not even the half of it,” Eric rolled his eyes, “It took him a few weeks of hanging out with us to even say more than two sentences to me.”

“He talks about you guys,” Paul smiled slightly, “He really cares about you two. He says you’re like family.”

“That’s good,” Aaron grinned, “We really care about him too.”

* * *

An hour, one cup of coffee, two cookies, and a lot of talking later, Paul heard talking outside of the trailer. A few seconds later, Daryl was walking in the trailer, taking of his snow covered coat.

“We got a little held up or we woulda been back sooner,” Daryl grumbled, “Started fuckin’ snowin’ on our way and we practically got a white out out there. Got the bandages though-” he was cut off when Paul practically slammed into him. His partner wrapped his arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly.

“Ya okay?” Daryl asked in shock, his arms wrapping around the small of his back. He looked over and saw Aaron and Eric at the table, watching them, “Paul, hey,” he said quickly and pulled away, “What happened? Y’alright?”

Paul nodded quickly and took a deep breath, “I’m just...really glad you’re back,” he smiled weakly.

“Hey,” Daryl said, taking something out of the bag, “Look at this thing,” he grinned -Daryl fucking  _ grinned _ \- and held out a plastic, toy train, “Think the kid’ll like that?"

Paul grinned as well, “I’m sure he will. It can be his Christmas present.”

“That’s adorable,” Eric said bluntly and stood up.

“What are you two doin’ here?” Daryl asked, looking at them.

“They kept me company,” Paul shrugged, “And ate all of our cookies.”

“Hey!” Aaron protested.

“Thanks,” Daryl told them, avoiding their eyes, “A lot. Ya wanna stay for dinner?”

“We’d like that,” Eric smiled at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is everyone still alive after that episode?


	12. December 12th: Decorating the Tree

Daryl sat on the couch, holding Richie. He watched as his partner tried to calm down the excited children of Hilltop as he took the ornaments from the box. Once again, he had no idea what he was doing.

“That’s absolutely adorable,” Eric said, sitting on one side of him as Aaron sat on the other.

“Yeah,” Daryl mumbled, still watching Paul.

“I meant you and Richie, but that _is_ adorable too,” Eric laughed.

Daryl rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled, looking down at Richie again.

“It’s sweet that he does this for the kids,” Aaron commented.

“Yeah, it’s an every year thing,” Alex said as he walked in with Harlan at his side.

“Doc,” Daryl nodded to him in greeting and ignored Alex. He might be on a good page with the nurse, but that didn’t make him  _like_ the guy.

“Hello, Richie,” Alex said happily when he saw him, “Daryl, could I hold him?”

Daryl gritted his teeth when Paul glanced over and grudgingly let him hold him. He knew Paul just wanted them to be peaceful...and he could give him that.

Hell, he’d give Paul anything he wanted.

“Hi, baby,” Alex said happily, smiling down at Richie, “How’s my favorite godson?”

“Ain’t your godson,” Daryl snapped, “He’s Rick’s.”

“Isn’t everything?” Eric said under his breath.

Daryl threw him a glare.

“Daryl, come hang ornaments with me,” Paul said quickly, walking over and grabbing his hand, “Alex, you’ll hold Richie, won’t you?”

“We’ll be taking turns,” Aaron said before Alex could answer, “I’m next in line.”

Paul smiled at him, “Thank you.”

“This is for the kids,” Daryl grumbled as his partner practically drug him over to the tree.

“Just help a little, c’mon,” Paul said, giving him  _ that look _ , “Please, Daryl?”

Daryl looked away before sighing, “Find, wadaya want me to do?”

“I can’t reach the star, so you can put it on,” Paul said, handing an old looking star to him, “None of us really can.”

Daryl was pretty sure that Paul probably  _ could _ reach the top if he really tried, but he let his partner have his way. He leaned up and put the star on the tree, making sure it was securely on the branch. He looked down at Paul, “That okay?”

“Perfect,” Paul smiled happily.


	13. December 13th: Snowstorm

“Daryl, why don’t you let me come and help you?” Paul called from the porch.

“Nah,” Daryl called, “Ya just stay down there.”

Paul crossed his arms for a moment and waited for Daryl. He rolled his eyes when he heard Daryl grunt and more snow fall off the roof. He stepped up on the barrier of the porch and pulled himself up.

“Told ya ta stay down there,” Daryl grumbled.

“Well, you needed help,” Paul said, moving over to the hatch on the roof, “Did you figure it out?”

“Figured out what’s the problem, ain’t figured out how ta fix it,” Daryl sighed, “Hatch was cracked open, s’where the draft has been comin’ from too and why the place hasn’t been warmin’ up right.”

“Okay, then let’s just close it,” Paul shrugged.

“Latch is froze,” Daryl grumbled, “Been tryin’ ta force it, but it ain’t-“

“I have an idea!” Paul said quickly, “Stay right here, okay?” he asked, climbing down onto the porch.

“Be careful- fuck,” Daryl scolded him, gritting his teeth as continued to try to push the hatch closed.

Paul went in the trailer quickly and looked in the crib, checking on Richie quickly before running to his closet. He searched around before smiling happily when he saw the red hairdryer.

He quickly grabbed it and went in the living room. He unplugged their Christmas lights. He pulled the extension cord over and plugged the hairdryer into it. He was about to turn it on, but thought better of it. Paul went to the supply closet and grabbed a bucket. He walked back out and placed it under the spot and then turned on the hairdryer.

“The fuck you doin’?” Daryl called, “You’re gonna get electrocuted.”

“Yes, Daryl, because I plan to hold this _right under_ the water,” Paul rolled his eyes and turned the heat of the hairdryer on high. He watched the water slowly start to drip into the bucket, “Okay, push down,” he called to Daryl.

Daryl pushed down on the hatch and it finally closed all the way shut.

Paul turned off the hairdryer and sat it to the side, smiling happily as he latched it shut. He unplugged the hairdryer and plugged his lights back in before moving the bucket out of the way.

Daryl appeared a few moments later, brushing the snow off of his coat.

“I get an A+ in problem solving for the day,” Paul smirked, walking over and wrapping his arms around his neck.

“You’re cold,” Daryl grunted, moving away from him and taking his coat off, “Go get in the shower.”

“I’m not getting a shower every time I’m cold, Daryl,” Paul rolled his eyes and took off his hat, “Just cuddle with me, okay?”

Daryl grumbled something under his breath that Paul didn’t catch before he spoke up again, “Kid awake?”

“He surprisingly slept through that,” Paul smiled slightly, “He’s a lot better than I was as a baby.”

“M’sure you were a damn handful,” Daryl snorted, sitting down on the couch and untying his boots before throwing them across the room.

“Really?” Jesus rolled his eyes, “Put those by the door, they’re going to get everything wet.”

Daryl gritted his teeth and grabbed the boots, throwing them towards the door.

“It looks like we’re getting a storm,” Paul said, lying on the couch and looking out at the window above him.

“Figures,” Daryl snorted, walking over, “Sit up for a minute.”

Paul sighed and sat up, “What are you- oh, okay,” he smiled happily when Daryl took his spot. He quickly moved so he was practically lying on top of him.

Daryl wrapped his arms around him, “You warm yet?”

“Wow, Daryl, don’t sound so impatient,” Paul laughed, “You really mind holding me that much?”

Daryl didn’t answer him and stared out the window. His hand mindlessly rubbed the bottom of Paul’s back as he held his partner, “Comin’ down pretty good. Might get snowed in.”

“I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather be snowed in with,” Paul smiled, leaning up and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Shuddup,” Daryl grumbled, holding him tighter.


	14. December 14th: Snowman

“Daryl.”

Daryl groaned and rolled over in bed, “Not now, Paul,” he grumbled, hiding his face in his pillow.

“Daryl, c’mon, wake up,” Paul sighed and then smirked. He jumped on top of him, lying on his partner's back.

“M’gonna throw ya offa me,” Daryl growled, hiding his face in the pillow.

“No, you won’t,” Paul grinned, placing a kiss on the back of the archer's neck, “It’s time to wake up, c’mon.”

Paul loved Daryl in the mornings. He was grouchy and easily annoyed and just so  _Daryl_. His hair was even more messy than usual and he usually just slept in a t-shirt and boxers lately...which Paul didn't mind at all.

“No, it ain’t,” Daryl said, his voice full of the annoyance that Paul just _loved_ to cause. He whipped around faster than Paul could react and grabbed the scout. He wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him down so he was under the blankets with him, “Go back ta sleep.”

“I’ve been up for two hours,” Paul said, rolling away from him, “Stop being lazy and get up. It’s time to face the day. I have _plans_ , Daryl.”

“If your _plans_ involve more of your Christmas shit, ya can keep ‘em,” Daryl said, pulling the blankets over his head.

“Not _technically_ Christmas,” Paul said and grabbed the cover. He ran all the way across the house with it, a smirk on his face.

“Paul,” Daryl groaned, “Fuck, _fine_ ," he snapped, looking around for his pants on the floor.

Paul tilted his head and watched his partner get dressed. He didn’t really get to see anything after Daryl saw him looking because he got a pillow thrown at his face.

“Where’s the kid?” Daryl demanded, looking over at the crib as he pulled his pants on.

“With Aaron and Maggie,” Paul said, grabbing his hand, “You and I are going on a walk.”

“S’too cold,” Daryl said, glaring at him, “Ain’t dealin’ with what happened last time.”

“Well, I’m going out,” Paul shrugged, “And if you don’t come out _with me_ , then I’ll be all alone,” he smirked when he saw Daryl grab his coat.

“C’mon, then,” Daryl brushed passed him, “Wear your gloves.”

Paul smiled happily and locked the door behind him and hurried to catch up to his partner. He grabbed his gloved hand with Daryl’s own and walked beside him, “This will be fun.”

“Freezin’ my ass off? Yeah, sounds fun,” Daryl snorted, “Where we goin’?”

“Not far,” Paul said happily, pulling him to the space in front of their little trailer, “Okay.”

Daryl stared at him blankly. Paul was torn between thinking he was asking “what are you on?” and saying “you’re stupid.”

“ _We_ are going to build a snowman,” Paul said happily, kneeling down in the snow.

“Gonna get all wet now,” Daryl muttered, kneeling down beside him. He was pretty much giving into Paul’s obsession with the holidays and all his activities at this point. It made him happy to see Paul happy and if _this_ was what made him happy…

He could put up with it until the snow melted.

“Okay,” Paul smiled happily when Daryl complied, “So first we start with the bottom,” he said, making a snowball and starting to roll it around in the snow.

Daryl tried not to groan when he saw Eric talking excitedly to someone in the window of Barrington House and then Maggie, Aaron, and Sasha all ran over to watch them. He felt his cheeks heat up, despite the cold.

He looked over and saw that Paul was already on the middle half, “Anything ya want me to do?”

“Let’s go find sticks,” Paul said, grabbing his hand and dragging him away.

Daryl sighed and let him.

 _An hour_ later (Paul had to have just the right sticks for the snowman and then refused to use a carrot for the nose because it would be “wasteful,” so they had to go find a rock for the nose), Paul sat up and smiled, “It’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” Daryl shrugged, looking at the snowman…it was…well, a snowman. Daryl didn’t see what was so great about it, but he saw how happy Paul was with it.

“Thank you,” Paul said, turning and wrapping his arms around his neck, “I know you don’t like this kind of stuff...so thank you for putting up with me.”

“Ain’t that hard,” Daryl said, glancing away from his eyes to look down at his lips before pressing a gentle kiss on them.

Paul smiled as he pulled away, not saying a word.

“Jus’ get inside b’fore ya catch somethin’,” Daryl said, quickly looking away when he saw the amount of love and adoration Paul was staring at him with, dragging him towards the house.


	15. December 15th: Gingerbread House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my gc because I'm bad at making friends so thank you for accepting me.

“Ain’t even gonna have enough for that,” Daryl said, sitting on the counter of the kitchen in the Barrington house.

“Must you always be so negative?” Paul rolled his eyes, “There’s going to be plenty left,” he said, looking in the oven, “It’ll be so cute…Richie will love it.”

“He’s a _baby_ ,” Daryl said, trying not to roll his eyes as well, “He ain’t goin’ to remember this, I don’t know why you’re puttin’ all this work into it.”

“Oh, please,” Paul walked over and stood in between his legs, “You love it.”

Daryl tried to continue to glare at him but Paul leaned up and kissed him softly, moving to hold his hands. Daryl’s hands twitched slightly as Paul grabbed them before he relaxed. Their kiss continued, slow and gentle, and Daryl pulled one of his hands away from Paul’s grasp and reached up to cup his cheek.

Before Daryl could figure out what he wanted to do next, the oven beeped and Paul excitedly pulled away.

“Okay, we have to let them cool off now,” Paul said, grabbing an oven mit and pulling out the pan, “And then we can make the icing and build it.”

“Don’t ya wanna do this with your family or somethin’?” Daryl asked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “Your dad’s somewhere around here, ain’t he?”

Paul looked at him, confusion written all over his face, “You’re my family too, Daryl.”

The amount of love in his eyes, even mixed with that confusion, meant the world to Daryl. He didn't have any real family besides Merle and Jess before all of this...then he met Rick and the others...and now he had _Paul_ , then they had Richie. He loved his family, but Paul and Richie were a whole different level of love that Daryl had never felt _in his life_. He never wanted to lose them or let them go.

Daryl swallowed and hopped down. He walked over and went to kiss him again, his hands on his cheeks, but he was interrupted before he could press his lips against his partner’s.

“Jesus!” Gregory said, walking into the kitchen, “I didn’t know you and Daniel would be here today.”

Daryl tried to hide his groan as he rested his forehead on Paul’s shoulder.

“It's Daryl,” Paul snapped instantly, correcting him. He’d known Daryl for a few months at this point and Paul was almost _always_ with him _and_ they had a child together. He would swear Gregory was just being an asshole if he didn’t know about the lack of attention he paid.

“Daryl,” Gregory waved his hand dismissively, “What are you two doing?”

“Baking a gingerbread house for the kids,” Paul smiled, “We’re just letting things cool.”

“You’re wasting our resources on this?” Gregory demanded, “Jesus, you know better.”

“You ain’t in charge,” Daryl spoke before Paul could, “Maggie is…and she says we can do this, so back off,” he glanced over at Paul and saw he was looking down at the ground, which pissed him off even more. _No one_  ever made Paul look like that with Daryl around.

“Listen, Derek-“ Gregory started.

“It’s Daryl Dixon,” he pointed at him, “And you best watch your mouth around ‘im and me. Dunno why they let you get away with bullshit like this. I’ll put a bolt in your ass if ya talk down like that to ‘im again. He ain't no kid and he does more shit than you do for this place."

“Daryl, it’s okay-“ Paul said softly, grabbing his hand, “This was a bad idea.”

“Stop givin’ in ta all the shit he says,” Daryl snapped and turned back to Gregory, “We’re makin’ a stupid house for the kids. Get out.”

“You know, ever since these people showed up, you’ve been different,” Gregory said to Paul, “And it’s not for the better,” he finished, stalking out of the room.

Paul stayed silent, looking down at the floor.

“Y’okay?” Daryl demanded.

“Yeah,” Paul sighed and shook his head. He tucked his hair behind his ear and went to check on the cookies.

“Don’t know why ya let ‘im get to ya,” Daryl mumbled. He looked around before wrapping his arms around him from behind. He rested his chin on his shoulder, holding Paul close to him.

Paul didn’t say anything, he just relaxed against him and started to take the cookies off of the pan and placed them onto the plate.

“You’re stronger than ‘im,” Daryl said in his ear, his voice quiet, “Better too. You an’ Maggie an’ Sasha are gonna rule this place together. Don’t need ‘im, don’t got no reason to let ‘im get ta you. What you’re doin’ for these kids is good.”

Paul sighed and stopped what he was doing. He leaned his head back against his shoulder, “You’re the best, you know that?”

Daryl kissed the side of his neck and his hand went down to brush Paul’s side with his finger.

“Daryl, no!” Paul gasped, trying to turn away when Daryl tickled his side, “Daryl, you know I’m ticklish, don’t you _dare_ -“

“Whoa!” Maggie said suddenly.

Daryl looked over and saw Maggie covering her eyes, “We weren’t doin’ nothin’,” he snorted.

“Good, do whatever you want, just not in the kitchen,” Maggie said, “I smelled cookies.”

“We’re making a gingerbread house, but I made extra because I knew you would,” Paul shrugged, a smile on his face as she took the cookie.

“I love you,” Maggie said around a mouthful of cookie.

* * *

Daryl swore to himself that was just trying to have fun to piss Gregory off, but he knew it was really just for Paul. Paul smiling was the best thing to him…

“Okay, hold this up,” Paul said, carefully holding one of the other pieces up as he put icing on the sides, “It’s going to stick this time.”

“Ya said that three times ago,” Daryl laughed under his breath.

“It’s going to work this time, I’m telling you,” Paul said quickly, pressing the last piece against the one Daryl was holding, smiling when the roof stayed, “There!”

“Yep, ya did it,” Daryl said, looking at the definitely not structurally sound house, “Can we go get the kid now? M'sure Eric and Aaron’s spoilin’ him too much.”

“He’s a baby, Daryl,” Paul rolled his eyes, mimicking him, “And besides, we have to decorate it. I’m sure a little more time alone with me won’t hurt you too bad.”

“Ain’t what I had in mind when ya said alone time,” Daryl grumbled and grabbed the spoon where Paul had mixed the icing together. He ate the spoonful of icing, wincing slightly at how sweet it is.

“Daryl, that’s for the house,” Paul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Daryl grabbed a spoonful of icing and splattered it onto the top of the house, “Done.”

Paul glared at him and took the spoon, “No more icing for you,” he said and went to decorating it.

Daryl decided to sit on the counter and watch.

The gingerbread house was gone within a day, a casualty of Maggie and Daryl’s combined need for food.


	16. December 16th: Ornaments

“It was really unique,” Paul said, his voice soft as he spoke. Daryl had a headache earlier in the day, so he was keeping his voice quiet. He knew his partner’s ears were sensitive after everything.

Usually, he’d sing to him, but Daryl just wanted him to talk today. His partner was lying on his side, his face pressed against his neck as he listened to him.

“My sister was really artsy…well, so was I, really, but I swore she was better. We had learned from our mother and we tried to copy her every time but we always messed up,” he smiled, “She let us paint them though.”

“Ya _made_ bulbs?” Daryl snorted.

“Mhmm,” Paul hummed, his hand stroking through Daryl’s long hair, “She always let us make our own even if they turned out badly. She didn’t let us mess with the glass or anything…we always made paper ones modeled after her’s.”

Daryl listened intently, not looking up at him, “How’d ya make it?”

“Beads with paper and string,” he smiled slightly, “We’d cut strips of paper and put two beads on the string and just keep bending them up until it made a circle,” he explained softly, “Then put the bead ontop,” he laughed quietly, “Vi made me one that was red and silver once…it looked amazing,” he shrugged, “It was so simple, but I loved it.”

Daryl went silent for a few moments before glancing up at him, “Ya can sing now.”

“Feeling up to it?” Paul asked, giving him a smile.

Daryl made a noise of confirmation, closing his eyes and smiled against his neck when Paul’s started to sing.

* * *

Daryl watched Paul walk out of the trailer with Richie in his arms, smiling when his partner waved at him. He normally would worry, but he was just going to the trailer next to them.

He rolled his eyes when he saw Avery glaring at him from his porch and went back in the trailer once he saw Paul and Richie go inside.

He started to search through the drawers in the house, ashamed to admit he didn’t really know where things were in his own house. He went in their bedroom and searched through Paul’s messy desk and sighed in relief when he saw all the paper.

He could do this.

* * *

He couldn’t do this.

The paper was so flimsy and kept falling apart. He knew Paul was going to be back soon and he was just going to come home to a mess.

Why couldn’t he just do something fucking _right_ for once?

“Daryl?” Paul called, “Hey, we’re back!”

Daryl pressed his forehead against the table’s cool surface before standing up. He put on a fake smile, but it broke into a real one when he saw Paul standing there with their son. Even when he fucked up, seeing them made him happy.

“How’s your dad?” Daryl walked, walking over and kissing him.

“How he always is,” Paul pursed his lips and looked away, “Still unhappy we’re going back with you, but he wanted to see Richie.”

“I get the feelin’,” Daryl said, taking Richard from his arms, “How’s your grandpa? Still nutty?” he asked and smirked when he saw Paul glare at him from the kitchen.

“What’s all this?” Paul asked, looking down at the papers scattered on the table. His eyes fell on the papers tied to the string and his face broke out in a grin, “Oh, Daryl…”

“Ain’t…it ain’t _good_ , but I tried,” Daryl shuffled his feet awkwardly, “Ya can throw it away-“

“I love it,” Paul smiled, holding it up by the string gently, “It’s amazing. We’ll put it on our tree.”

“Ya don’t gotta…” Daryl trailed off and watched Paul hang it on their tree, “Oh.”

“It’s perfect,” Paul smiled, walking over, “I knew our tree was missing something.”

Daryl looked over at the stupid ball of paper and put his free arm around Paul, a smile on his face.


	17. December 17th: Christmas Party

Contrary to popular belief, Paul Rovia wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. Sure, he got along with people and could work on a team, but that didn’t mean he _enjoyed_ it.

So when Maggie decided she wanted to throw a Christmas party for everyone, he of course grudgingly agreed…though he acted extremely happy about it for her.

He was now sitting on the couch, his head on Daryl’s shoulder…and maybe just a little bit tipsy.

Maybe.

“Love you,” Paul slurred, his hand petting Daryl’s face, “Love you so much…you’re my soulmate, did you know that? I used to think soulmates were _bullshit_ and then I met you.”

Daryl just stared down at him, his arm around him. Paul had slumped down into the couch at one point and now he’d draped himself almost all the way over Daryl so he was almost in his lap.

“I love you so much,” Paul said again, “I’m glad you’re my baby daddy.”

“You talk too much,” Daryl said, glancing over at the empty glasses on the table beside them, “And you’re a lightweight.”

“I don’t drink often,” Paul said, nuzzling Daryl’s neck, “And I’m not…I’m not _drunk_ , Daryl. I’m just…happy…because I love you. You’re so pretty.”

Daryl glanced over to where Maggie had her hand over her mouth but Sasha was laughing her ass off but trying to keep quiet about it.

“A’right,” Daryl said, standing up, “C’mon, m’takin’ ya home.”

“Can we get our baby?” Paul asked, stumbling as he tried to stand up.

Daryl wrapped his arm around him quickly so he didn’t fall, rolling his eyes, “No, he’s stayin’ with Aaron and Eric tonight. You’ll see ‘im tomorrow.”

“You’re so responsible,” Paul said, wrapping his arms around his neck, “You’re an amazing dad.”

“Nice party, Maggie,” Daryl grumbled, practically dragging Paul from the room, “I ain’t never lettin’ you take nothin’ from Louie and Larry again,” he said, walking down the steps of the house and towards their trailer.

“I think they’re secret gay lovers,” Paul explained, sounding completely convinced, “We should hook them up,” he gasped, “Daryl, we can be gay matchmakers,” he said before tripping and falling into the snow.

“Fuck,” Daryl cursed, suddenly getting serious. He picked him up quickly…he wasn’t risking Paul getting a cold, _okay_?

“You’re so strong,” Paul said happily, staring up at him, “Did I tell you that you were my soulmate yet?”

Daryl cursed under his breath as he attempted to keep Paul upright while unlocking the trailer. He finally got the key in and unlocked the door, going inside, “Okay,” he said, breathing heavily as he sat Paul down on the couch. He walked over and slammed the door shut and grabbed a blanket, throwing it over Paul, “Ya lay on your side, okay?”

“I want to cuddle with you,” Paul said, holding up his arms, “Husbands have to cuddle.”

“Christ,” Daryl said under his breath, getting a glass of water from the kitchen, “Drink this,” he said, helping him sit up, “Gonna go get you some warm clothes.”

“I want one of your shirts,” Paul called after him before drinking the water.

Daryl came back a few moments later with a pair of Paul’s sweatpants and one of his t-shirts.

“Daryl,” Paul said, his voice sounding dead serious, “Why do I have a picture of a lobster on my wall?”

Daryl looked over at the cloth and rolled his eyes, “Hell if I know,” he said, helping him stand up, “C’mon, gotta get you outta them clothes. They’re all wet.”

“You can just tell me if you want my clothes off, Daryl,” Paul said, his hands on his hips for about five seconds before he stumbled backwards and landed on his ass on the couch.

Daryl sat down beside him and unbuttoned his shirt, helping him take it off. He then helped the smaller man pull his t-shirt over his head, grunting when Paul threw his arms around him.

“I love wearing your shirts!” Paul said, hugging him as tight as he could…which wasn’t very tight, given his level of intoxication.

“Uh-huh,” Daryl snorted, “Help me get these pants off, okay?”

“I like your way of thinking,” Paul said, struggling to unbutton his pants.

Daryl rolled his eyes and unbuttoned them for him and helped him take them off.

“I’m not wearing underwear,” Paul snickered.

Daryl stared up at the ceiling, “Christ, Paul,” he said under his breath, trying not to laugh as he helped him put his sweatpants on.

“Best husband ever,” Paul said, kissing him cheek, “We’re husbands, right? I mean, I know we say we're partners, but I really want you to be my husband,” he said, crawling into his arms and wrapping his arms around his neck.

Daryl sighed, staring down at him, “Yeah, Paul, we’re husbands.”

“I love being husbands with my soulmate,” Paul said, kissing him.

“Ya talk a lot for someone who’s drunk off their ass,” Daryl snorted.

“Love you, Daryl,” Paul said, pressing his face against his neck.

“Love you too,” Daryl mumbled, tucking Paul’s hair behind his ear when it fell in his face.

* * *

Daryl held his hair when he threw up the next morning because that’s what husbands do.


	18. December 18th: Eggnog

“This don’t even taste that good,” Daryl said, wrinkling his nose as he took another drink.

Paul had been so appalled that he’d never tasted eggnog. It wasn’t even that good, but Paul was happy to be drinking it, so he took slow sips of his own cup. He was watching Paul’s consumption of it, because they got it from Louie and Larry, who thought it was hilarious when the younger man got drunk. Daryl was one hundred percent sure they put alcohol in it.

After last night, he really didn’t want to deal with drunk Paul again. He was a better drunk than the others he’s dealt with in his life. Usually he dealt with mean drunks, but Paul was overly happy and lovey when he was.

He also tried to take his clothes off.

A lot.

Paul was annoying as hell at the Christmas party, due to the fact that _after_ he got him to finally relax, all he wanted to do was have sex. It was easy enough to tell him no, but the sad, puppy-dog eyed look he got in response didn’t make it very helpful.

He just couldn’t have sex with Paul when he was out of it like that…it wasn’t right.

“This is really good,” Paul commented to Louie.

“Sure is, buddy,” Louie said, already a little buzzed from it.

Daryl just put his arm around him, not saying a word as Paul made small talk. He never imagined himself _here_ , even if the world hadn’t ended. A good…husband, a bunch of people who actually liked him, and drinking shit like this just because it was a stupid tradition Paul had? Never in his life. He would still be hanging around with Merle and probably end up in jail.

Daryl watched Louie turn to talk to Larry and looked over at Paul, who was sipping on his drink. That man…he was _everything_ to him. He never thought he’d fall in love or get this lucky.

Daryl leaned down and kissed him softly, ignoring the taste of eggnog on his lips as he did.

Paul smiled as he pulled away, “What was that for?”

“Nothin’.”


	19. December 19th: Ugly Sweaters

“I have a surprise for you!” Paul said excitedly, shaking Daryl’s shoulder, “C’mon, wake up!”

“Why you always gotta do this?” Daryl asked, half asleep, “Just wanna sleep, ya little asshole.”

“Okay, that’s rude,” Paul said, pulling him out of bed, “C’mon, you’ll love it.”

“Ain’t Christmas yet, ya can’t give me no presents,” Daryl commented, letting his partner drag him out to their living room.

Paul made sure Daryl was still half asleep and made him sit on the couch, “Can I take your shirt off?” he asked quickly.

“Yeah,” Daryl grumbled, leaning back on the couch.

“Okay, good,” Paul said, taking his t-shirt off and grabbed the sweater from the place he’d thrown it on the couch and quickly helped Daryl put it on.

“The fuck you doin’?” Daryl sighed, pretty much waking up now. He looked down and wrinkled his nose at the sweater he was wearing, “Why?” he asked bluntly.

“They’re ugly sweaters,” Paul said happily, taking his (Daryl’s) t-shirt off and grabbing his.

“C’mere,” Daryl said, staring at his chest as he went to pull him down on his lap.

“No, no, you aren’t distracting me right now,” Paul pointed at him, squirming out of his grip, “We are wearing these together,” he said, pulling the sweater over his head. He pulled his sweater on and grabbed his Santa hat and put it on as well, “There. Aren’t we cute?”

“Can’t wait for this to be over,” Daryl muttered as Paul sat beside him.

“Smile for the camera,” Paul said, grabbing the polaroid camera he’d borrowed from Aaron and Eric after they got Richie. The two told him that he’d need it more than they would with Richie around.

Daryl always put up with the pictures. At first he thought they were dumb, but then Paul explained that if one of them were gone one day, he wanted Richie to have pictures.

Daryl didn’t plan on letting anyone or anything take him or Paul.

Daryl put his arm around him and pulled him close as Paul snapped the picture, putting on a smile for the camera.

Paul pulled the picture out and put it on the table to let it develop and smiled, “We can wear these until Christmas.”

“Hell no,” Daryl said, taking the sweater off, “Ya got your picture.”

Paul glanced down at his chest a few times and then back up to his face, bouncing his eyebrows.

“Fuckin’ dork,” Daryl muttered, throwing the Santa hat across the room and pulled him so he was straddling his hips, “I ain’t doin’ nothin’ with ya if you’re wearin’ that.”

“I think it’s sexy,” Paul said, looking down at the ugly sweater.

Daryl rolled his eyes and pulled it off of his partner, throwing it across the room where he threw the hat and pulled him down into a kiss.


	20. December 20th: Snowed In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the gc just because.

“Well,” Paul said, standing on his small porch and looking down at the snow that was almost piled up to the door now, “This is a predicament.”

“Ya wanna get in here before ya get a cold?” Daryl called, sitting on the couch, “Ain’t takin’ care of your sick ass.”

“You would,” Paul smirked, closing the door and locking it behind him. He walked over and sat down on his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck, “Looks like we’re stuck together for the day. Whatever will we do?”

Daryl rolled his eyes and kissed him.

Paul pulled away and smiled, “I’m making hot chocolate. Will you check on Richie?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, watching after him for a moment. He cleared his throat and walked back to the crib. He smiled when he saw Richie was awake and looking around the room, “Hey, little man, why didn’t ya tell us ya were up, huh?” he asked, picking him up and holding him close, “Ya wanna come sit with us for a while?” he asked.

“Did he wake up or did you wake him up?” Paul asked, smirking slightly.

Daryl rolled his eyes at him, “He was awake when I got back there,” he said, sitting on the couch.

Paul walked over and sat beside them, “Hi, munchkin,” he said, taking Richie from his arms and smiling at him.

“Don’t call ‘im that, give ‘im a better name,” Daryl said, “Little Ass Kicker 2.”

“We are not calling our baby _little ass kicker_ ,” Paul glared, holding Richie close to him, “Don’t listen to your daddy, that is not your name, okay?” he handed him back to Daryl and looked out the window, “It’s really coming down out there,” he said before going to get the two mugs from the counter, “I got whipped cream,” he smiled at him.

“Never had that stuff,” Daryl said, taking a mug from him, “Don’t put it on this, it’ll ruin it.”

“You’ve never tried, it how do you know you won’t like it?” Paul asked, putting some on top of his cup, “And how the hell have you never had whipped cream, Daryl Dixon?”

Daryl raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, point taken,” Paul sighed, “Just try some.”

“Nah,” Daryl shook his head, taking a drink before putting the mug on the table and moving so he was holding Richie with both hands, “’Sup, little man?” he asked and the baby just squealed happily in response.

Paul smiled, watching them. He smirked when he looked down at his cup and then looked back at Daryl, who was too distracted with Richie. He took some of the whipped cream on his finger and reached over, poking Daryl’s nose.

The three of them sat there in dead silence for a moment; Daryl processing what just happened, Paul waiting for a reaction, and Richie…being a baby.

Richie was the first to break the silence and burst into the fit of giggles, trying to grab at Daryl’s nose.

Daryl looked over at him and shook his head, trying to contain his own laughter that was caused by Richie, more than anything.

Paul just smiled smugly and took another drink from his hot chocolate.

* * *

“He asleep?” Daryl asked as he walked in the bedroom. It was a lazy day, overall, and he wasn’t very tired from it. It pretty much involved a lot of reading, watching Paul read, and working on the new bookshelf. He knew he wasn’t going to fall asleep, but he didn’t mind laying in bed with Paul.

“Yeah,” Paul smiled, looking over at the crib, “Out the moment I put him down.”

Daryl crawled in beside him, “You warm enough?”

Paul rolled his eyes, “I’ll tell you if I’m not. Stop asking.”

Daryl muttered something under his breath as he got situated and then pulled Paul against him.

“Just making sure I’m warm enough, right?” Paul asked before he could say it, a smirk on his face.

“Yeah,” Daryl shrugged, “’Course.”

“Ever the romantic, Mr. Dixon.”


	21. December 21st: Christmas Dinner

“You have to come with us, Daryl,” Paul said, holding Richie close to him, “Christmas dinner. Food. You love food.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and stood up from the couch, “Just wanna relax for one day. Why you so against that?”

“Because we’re going to have dinner with our family and you’re moping about it,” Paul sighed, pulling Richie’s little beanie on his head.

“Your family,” Daryl mumbled.

“Aaron and Eric aren’t your family, then?” Paul raised an eyebrow, “Or Sasha and Maggie?”

Daryl grumbled under his breath and pulled on his coat on, “M’goin’, okay?”

Paul smiled at him and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you, Daryl.”

“Yeah,” Daryl sighed, walking out of the trailer with him. He stared down at the deep snow, trying to figure out why the hell Paul wanted to walk over in the cold to eat dinner with people they practically saw everyday. He wrapped his arm around Paul, shielding their baby from the cold wind.

“This is some bullshit,” Daryl muttered as they walked into the house, taking his coat off.

“Must you always be so negative?” Paul rolled his eyes and kicked some of the snow off of his boots, “This is a celebration and we’re surrounded by our family.”

Daryl stared at him.

“Not all of our family,” Paul corrected, “We’ll see the rest in the spring, don’t worry.”

Daryl rolled his eyes as they walked into the dining room. Maggie was there with Sasha, setting the table, as Avery watched from the corner. He was pretty sure he heard Aaron and Eric talking in the kitchen too. Alex was there with his equally stupid boyfriend.

What a family.

Daryl took Richie from Paul’s arms and walked away, going to the living room of Barrington and sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. Paul knew he wasn’t one for this shit.

“Can I see my grandson?” someone asked suddenly.

Daryl glanced over and saw Avery. He handed Richie over grudgingly, making sure that the older man had a good hold on him. He took a deep breath and watched as Avery sat down beside him.

“Hey there, little guy,” Avery said softly.

Daryl got up quickly and walked to the kitchen.

“Hey, Daryl,” Eric said happily, “Where’s Richie?”

“With Paul’s dad,” he mumbled, sitting on the counter.

“That’s where we’re preparing food, Daryl,” Aaron sighed, “Please kindly remove your ass.”

“Sure, dad,” Daryl said sarcastically, but he still jumped down.

“I knew they were your real parents,” Paul smirked as he walked in.

“Ya wanna shuddup?” Daryl snorted as Paul walked over.

“When have I ever been known to do that?” Paul asked, looking up at him.

Daryl rolled his eyes and leaned down, kissing him softly.

Paul pulled away and smiled at him, turning around so he was leaning against Daryl’s chest.

Daryl wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing his cheek softly as he looked around. It was just Aaron and Eric…it was comfortable. No prying eyes were around.

“Daryl, while I do think you two are absolutely adorable, please carry this corn out to the table,” Eric said, gesturing to a bowl on the counter.

“Christ,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, letting Paul go and grabbing the bowl as he walked out.

* * *

They all sat at the table in silence. Maggie was at the front of the table, Sasha on one side and Paul on the other. Daryl went to sit by Paul, but Avery had taken the chair and so he was now sitting across from his partner and beside Alex and his stupid boyfriend. Aaron and Eric had peacefully taken their places beside Wes without so much as a complaint so Daryl just sat and shut up.

“Should we…say grace?” Wes asked awkwardly.

“Nah,” Daryl said before stuffing a roll into his mouth.

Dinner went by relatively smooth. Daryl was holding Richie through most of it before Eric demanded to hold him so Daryl could eat with two hands and _not_ drop food on his baby.

Once Eric had the baby, Daryl felt Paul’s foot sliding up his leg. His head snapped up from his food and Paul was still eating without even looking up at him.

Daryl glared at him and went back to eating before he froze when Paul’s foot slid further up his leg. He grit his teeth and grabbed his foot when it got dangerously too close, giving him another glare that Paul _definitely_ received this time.

* * *

“Well, I think that went well,” Paul said innocently after putting Richie down to bed. He laughed when Daryl gently pushed him against the wall, “Hello, Mr. Dixon, how can I help you?”

“Wasn’t funny,” Daryl told him simply.

“I thought it was hilarious,” Paul smiled up at him.

“Almost got…” Daryl trailed off, his cheeks heating up slightly as he looked away.

“That was the goal,” Paul shrugged.

Daryl rolled his eyes at him and pressed his lips against his.


	22. December 22nd: Christmas Movies

Daryl watched as Paul hit the side of the TV for the second time, “That ain’t really fixin’ nothin’, y’know that, right?”

“I’m not exactly skilled with electronics, Daryl,” Paul said, hitting the side of it again. He grinned when the screen went blue, “I fixed it,” he said happily.

Daryl rolled his eyes and watched him, “This is a waste ‘a electricity.”

“Stop being so negative,” Paul said, taking a VHS tape from the box, “I found these in the attic of Barrington. They must have done Christmas stuff, back in the day,” he smiled, popping it into the old TV they had found as well. He ran over and sat down beside Daryl after making sure the volume on the TV was low enough that it wouldn’t wake Richie from his nap. They didn’t have a lot of opportunity to just spend time together, since they got Richie.

Paul grabbed Daryl’s arm before Daryl could even move and draped it over his shoulder, smiling up at him.

“Christ,” Daryl said when he saw the word “Frosty” appear in the title cards.

“I loved this movie when I was little,” Paul told him softly, “I’d always watch it with Violette when I got to my mom’s for the holidays. My dad and I always traveled at night to avoid traffic,” he explained, “So we’d get there late. My dad would go to the guest room and immediately go to sleep and Violette was always so excited,” he laughed weakly, “She’d stay awake, just to see me. Then we’d make hot chocolate after we were sure dad was asleep and watch Frosty and Rudolph.”

Daryl watched him talk, surprised at the happy expression on his face as he talked. Violette was most likely dead now…and he knew Paul didn’t really accept that since they didn’t have a body to go by…but he still _missed her_ , right? Why would he be smiling?

Not that Daryl minded him smiling.

He rubbed his arm as he talked, telling different stories about him and his sister’s Christmas adventures while he didn’t take his eyes away from the TV. Daryl had never really seen anything remotely Christmas-y on TV when he was young. He was too busy avoiding his father and Merle was always watching something with lots of explosions or something pornographic when their dad wasn’t around.

Paul stopped talking after a while and went back to watching the movie. Daryl noticed his eyes were watery, so he leaned over and kissed his neck softly before burying his face in his shoulder. He held onto him a little tighter, letting him know that he was there for him.

“Can we watch another?” Paul asked softly, once the credits rolled, “I know this is dumb a-and you don’t like it, but I…” he trailed off helplessly.

“Wanna watch it again,” Daryl told him, “Didn’t really get ta hear it. Watch that then another one after Richie goes to bed tonight. Make some hot chocolate too.”

Paul looked over at him, shock written all over his face. He quickly shook it off and pulled Daryl into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around his neck, “Thank you,” he whispered in his ear.

“Yeah,” Daryl said, just as quiet, “No problem, Paul.”


	23. December 23rd: Christmas Carols

Daryl was determined _not_ to rip his hair out. He was trying really, really hard not to, despite the urge. Normally he loved hearing his partner sing, he had such a good voice and was really relaxing.

It just wasn’t relaxing when he’d been singing Christmas songs _all day_.

The worst part is Richie seemed to enjoy it. Little traitor. He was watching his daddy dance around with wide eyes as he sang with his stupid hat on that Daryl was determined to hide next time he wasn’t looking.

“Ain’t you tired yet?” Daryl demanded.

“No, I’m not,” Paul crossed his arms, “Daryl, are you tired of hearing me sing?” he asked innocently, his blue eyes wide.

Daryl pursed his lips, “Uh…” he trailed off, his eyes going wide at the idea of Paul actually being sad. He didn’t want to make Paul upset…

Then Paul’s face broke out into a grin and obviously the innocent act was up.

Paul sat down beside him and kissed the side of his head, “I don’t want you to get a headache anyways.”

“Ya don’t gotta stop,” Daryl mumbled.

“It’s okay,” Paul said, smiling at him, “I’m perfectly content just sitting here with you and our baby.”

Daryl moved his free hand to link with Paul’s. He looked down at them, stroking his hand with his thumb.


	24. December 24th: Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this at midnight and I'll do the same tomorrow for the final chapter. I'm sure everyone will be busy with friends and family and I just want you guys to be able to wake up to mushy shit like this.

“I know you’re sad,” Paul admitted softly as he sat with Daryl at their dinner table. They were eating leftovers from dinner the other night. Instead of going to the big celebration over at Barrington, the two decided to just have a quiet night in.

Daryl looked up at him, his mouth still full of mashed potatoes, “What?” he asked before swallowing his food.

“I know you want to be with your family,” Paul said, messing with his piece of bread awkwardly, “I’m sorry you can’t have that.”

“Glad m’with ya, Paul,” Daryl said. He stared across at his nervous looking partner for a moment before reaching across and holding his hand, “You’re my family too. Love ya.”

Paul smiled at him and took his hand back, continuing to eat, “This is nice,” he commented, “Being together…just a quiet night in,” he looked over to where Richie was in his crib and smiled.

“Yeah,” Daryl muttered, going back to eating.

“Violette would love you,” Paul said bluntly, getting Daryl’s attention again, “So would my mom,” he smiled weakly, “And I’m sorry about my dad. I don’t say that enough.”

Daryl swallowed his food again, “Ain’t gotta go apologizin’,” he mumbled and then smiled slightly, “Ya really think they’d like me?”

“You care about me…you _love me_ and you’re strong, so yes,” Paul smiled slightly, “And I love you, so they would love you.”

Daryl looked down, nervousness taking over. Paul was opening up about his family…he could do that, right? That would be…okay.

“Ya never met Carol, but she’d like ya,” Daryl told him, “A-And once Rick finds out we’re together and got Richie, he’s gonna like ya too. ‘Chonne’ll be all protective, but don’t let that throw ya off. She loves ya already too.”

Paul smiled, “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, taking his plate and putting it in the sink, rinsing it off.

Daryl grabbed a few containers and started to put their leftovers away while Paul did the dishes. It was so…domestic. Daryl never thought he’d have anything like this, let alone someone he actually loved doing it with. He enjoyed the little things; wrapping his arms around Paul’s waist while was cooking, doing the dishes together, feeding Richie together. It was stuff he never thought he’d enjoy.

He finished packing everything up and put them in the fridge before wrapping his arms around Paul’s waist and kissing his cheek.

“How did you meet Rick?” Paul asked suddenly.

Daryl froze momentarily, but was brought out of it when Paul moved to put the dishes on the little drying rack, "Uh...met up with 'im few months after the world went ta hell. Goddamn miracle," he laughed weakly, "His wife an' kid were in our group and somehow he just...found 'is way there. Asshole cuffed Merle ta a roof...I threw a squirrel at 'im."

"A squirrel?" Paul laughed.

"'Ey, I was upset," Daryl snorted.

"So that's when you met Michonne and everyone else?" Paul asked.

"Nah, Rick was married to a lady named Lori at the time. Didn't meet 'Chonne 'til we were livin’ at the prison. All this shit went down and…” he waved his hand, wincing slightly at the memory of Hershel, “Ain’t worth mentionin’.”

“What about Maggie?” Paul asked.

“Carl got shot,” Daryl explained, “They took ‘im to his vet’s house…Hershel, was his name,” he explained, sitting down beside him, “Maggie’s daddy. Met ‘er there, she stuck with us for the long haul ‘til you stole ‘er away,” he smirked, letting it be known that he was playing about it.

“What can I say? I’m addictive,” Paul smirked, “And Tara?”

“Stuff with the prison. After it fell…she helped Glenn get back ta us. We were all separated, at the time. She’d been mixed in with the guys that tried to take the place from us. Wrong crowd, I guess…she didn’t mean ta get mixed in it.”

Paul nodded, looking thoughtful, “And Sasha?”

“Found ‘er way into the prison,” Daryl laughed, “Rick went batshit, scared ‘er away…she joined another community, but then got back with us.”

“And Rosita?” Paul asked.

“Same thing with Glenn and Tara. Met ‘em on the road, she was travelin’ with Abe and Eugene…helped ‘em get back ta us,” he said, going quieter when he talked about the other man.

“Aaron and Eric?” Paul asked, changing the subject.

“Met Aaron when we were on the road. He watched us for a while and invited us to Alexandria. Eric’s ‘is dumb boyfriend who broke ‘is ankle on a tractor,” he snorted, “Got kinda close to ‘em after I moved in. We were all kinda outsiders…and they had a bike frame and neither of them knew how to fix it worth shit,” he smiled slightly.

Paul smiled, putting his head on his shoulder, “Your family sounds very nice, Daryl.”

“They’re okay,” Daryl shrugged. They really did mean the world to him…Paul and Richie included.

“Tell me about your mom and sister,” he prompted him gently.

Paul glanced up at him, “Oh, I don’t…” he trailed off and shook his head, “That’s okay.”

“Nah, I wanna hear,” Daryl told him, “Tell me all about ‘em.”


	25. December 25th

Daryl woke up to the feeling of Paul’s lips brushing against the back of his neck. He blinked a few times and turned over, looking up at him, “Hey,” he smiled at him, reaching up and touching his cheek softly, “Wadaya doin’?”

“Waking you up,” Paul smiled, running his hand down his back, “Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

Daryl blinked a few times, starting to wake up more. He smiled a little bit and reached up, smoothing his hair down, “Hairs a mess.”

“I haven’t brushed it yet,” Paul shrugged. He leaned down and kissed him softly before pulling away, “Go brush your teeth before I give you your presents, morning breath," he smirked, walking away quickly before Daryl could grab him again.

“More than one?” Daryl asked, sitting up, “I didn’t get you nothin’ big.”

“That’s okay,” Paul waved his hand dismissively, “I’ll love whatever you got me,” he called from the bathroom, leaning out to smile at him as he brushed his hair.

Daryl swallowed nervously and reached down between the wall and the bed. He was lucky Paul wasn’t a restless sleeper and found it. He took out the little box and stared at it. He didn’t know why he was so nervous…they were together and in love…hell, they already had a kid and even called each other partners.

But…what if he said no? What if he realized he wasn’t good enough for him?

Daryl shoved the box in the pocket of his pajama pants and went in the bathroom, bumping his hip against Paul’s to make him move over so he could grab his toothbrush, “Quit hoggin’ the mirror, ya look fine.”

“Is that a compliment I detect?” Paul smirked, still brushing his hair.

“Yeah, shuddup,” Daryl mumbled, grabbing the toothbrush from the little cup on their sink.

Paul just smiled smugly and grabbed his hair tie from where he left it in the corner. Those things were scarce and he hoarded them. He wouldn’t give them out to too many people. Sasha? Yeah. Rosita when she threatened him? Definitely, yes.

Daryl watched him easily tie his hair up in a bun and sighed, “Ya brush your teeth?”

“Yes, Daryl, I’ve been up for two hours,” Paul rolled his eyes.

“Good, then get out,” Daryl snorted, shoving him out. As soon as the door shut, he spit his toothpaste out in the sink. He rinsed his toothbrush and put it back in the cup before staring at himself in the mirror. The dark circles had gone when the sleep deprivation and nightmares wore off and he could see a little better since he gave himself a trim. He looked more cleaned up...that was good, right?

“Fuck,” Daryl growled under his breath and turned the water on, splashing it in his face. He didn’t know why the hell he was freaking out so bad. Paul loved him…he didn’t know why he loved him, but he _did_.

But what if he thought it was dumb?

 _Little pussy can’t even propose to the little asshole?_ Merle’s voice called in his head.

Daryl tensed up and gripped the bathroom counter tightly. He hadn’t heard Merle’s voice in a long, long time. He took a shaky breath and willed him to _go the fuck away_ and walked out of the bathroom, feeling determined.

“Can I go first?” Paul asked excitedly, pulling presents out from under the bed.

“Yeah,” Daryl said, tilted his head slightly before looking away, his cheeks heating up as he did.

“Okay,” Paul said, pulling three small boxes from under the bed. A bow fell off and he sighed, “Grab that, please,” he said, fumbling under the bed to find something else.

Daryl grabbed the stick-on bow and looked down at it. He smirked and acted like he was grabbing Paul’s ass…and he maybe he did a little bit.

“Daryl!” Paul yelped and looked back at him, “In the Christmas spirit?” he smirked.

“Yeah, sure,” Daryl shrugged, looking down at the bow that was stuck on the back of Paul’s sweatpants.

At least that lightened the mood a little bit.

“Okay,” Paul grabbed the last box and hopped up happily, “I also have presents from both of us for Aaron, Eric, Sasha, Maggie, and my dad.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at the last one.

“Okay, open this one first,” he said, shoving the small box in his arms and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Daryl sat down took, debating on tearing into it. Paul -of course- was good at wrapping presents…just like he was good at everything.

“Go on,” Paul smiled at him.

Daryl tore into the paper gently and opened it to see a small cardboard box. He opened it slowly and saw a ton of polaroids that had been taken from Aaron and Eric’s camera.

“It’s so you can always take us wherever you go,” Paul explained, spreading out of the pictures on the bed. There were a few of him and Richie sitting on the couch together, one of Aaron, Eric, and Paul together, and one of Paul, Sasha, and Maggie in the office of Hilltop; they were smiling like idiots and Maggie was in Gregory’s chair while Paul sat on the desk.

“Buncha rebels,” Daryl joked, rubbing his eyes as they stung slightly. He looked down at the one of Paul with Richie on his couch and grabbed it, “Keepin’ this one with me.”

Paul smiled softly and handed him another one, “Okay, this one next,” he told him quickly.

Daryl laughed quietly at the shape of it, “Bet it’s a book.”

Paul nodded quickly, smiling brightly at him.

Daryl tore into it and looked at the title of it: _The Language Of Flowers: Introduction to Flowers and Their Meaning_. He raised an eyebrow, looking up at Paul.

“You really seem to like it when I talk to you about this stuff,” Paul shrugged, “I was telling Ze- King Ezekiel about that,” he corrected himself with the name slip quickly and smiled, “He said he had something he thought you’d like in the library and gave me this.”

Daryl nodded, looking down at the book and smiling at how thoughtful it was, “Thanks, Paul.”

“Next!” Paul said happily, hanging him another box, “You’ll love this one.”

Daryl opened it and smiled, looking down at the box. It had some knives, along with a few bolts in it as well.

“We found a weapons store a while back…and there were a few strays lying around. I figured every one counts,” he took one of the bolts from the box and smiled, “This one is purple and I thought it was pretty,” he shrugged.

Daryl rolled his eyes at his dork of a partner and took the bolt back, lying it in the box gently and putting the box on the table beside their bed, “Thanks.”

Paul leaned over the book and placed a soft kiss on his lips before grabbing the other box, “Okay, this one is last,” he said, his face going serious. He swallowed nervously, watching for his reaction.

Daryl grabbed the box and opened it. It wasn’t wrapped. His hands shook slightly as he pulled the tissue paper away, “Paul…”

“I scrubbed it for like two hours,” Paul laughed weakly, “I was worried I’d wear out the fabric, really.”

Daryl slowly took the vest out of the box, his hands still shaking, “Fuck, how…” he trailed off, looking down at the worn angel wings. He froze when he saw his red bandanna lying in the bottom of the box as well, “ _Paul_ ,” he breathed out.

_“See you around, hillbilly!” Scout called at him, tossing him the bandanna before getting in the police car._

Daryl leaned over and grabbed the back of Paul’s neck, pressing his forehead against this, “How the hell’d ya get this shit, huh?” he asked hoarsely.

“Dwight was staying at the Kingdom because he got in late and was going to meet with Ezekiel the next morning,” Paul said softly, “I snuck in his tent and stole it.”

“Little shit,” Daryl laughed weakly, pressing his lips against his, “Fuck, Paul, I love ya so much.”

Paul smiled, pulling away, “I love you too, Daryl…and I demand to try it on.”

“Hell nah,” Daryl said, going to put it on but Paul was faster.

Paul grabbed the vest and stood up, putting it on and grinning, “Well? Do I look as badass as _the_ Daryl Dixon?” he asked, spinning around.

Daryl eyed the red bow on his partner’s ass, “Yeah, pretty badass,” he smirked. Paul wearing his vest was doing weird things to him...and he decided those weird things needed to  _stop_ right now if this was going to stay romantic.

“Okay, you can have it back, you deserve it,” Paul said, taking it off and handing it back to him, “It’s too big for me anyways,” he shrugged, sitting down on the bed again.

Daryl swallowed and took the vest back, still feeling like he was going to start shaking again. He pulled the vest on slowly and let out a sigh of relief, feeling a little more whole. Sure, it was just a piece of fabric…but it had meaning. It was a part of him, he always wore it, and when the Saviors took that from him…it just felt like they were trying to take away who he was.

“I feel like that’s your favorite,” Paul smiled playfully.

“Yeah,” Daryl smiled at him; it was a real, genuine smile.

Paul gently folded the red bandanna and sat it in the box with his weapons. He turned back to him, “Okay, okay, you can make out with your vest later, it’s my turn now,” he said playfully, making it obvious that he was joking.

Daryl nodded, “Ain’t as big as yours…don’t really matter, anyways…just wanted…” he trailed off awkwardly and took off the box, “S’dumb.”

Paul’s eyes widened when he saw the box, “Daryl…” he trailed off.

“Just…let me talk, okay?” Daryl took a deep breath and opened his box, showing him the ring, “I-I know…you an’ me are forever. I really love ya, Paul. Never thought I’d find someone that could love me a-and that I’d love like this. I ain’t the best at expressin’ myself a-and…” he took a deep breath, “I know I ain’t the best. But I really, really wanna call ya my husband.”

Paul sat there, in complete shock.

Daryl swallowed nervously, “Paul-“ he was cut off when Paul threw his arms around him, hugging him as tight as he could and causing him to fall on his back on the bed.

Paul continuing to hug him for a moment before pushing himself up so his arms were boxing in Daryl’s head as he looked down at him, “Yes,” he said before leaning down and kissing him.

“Wait,” Daryl breathed out, pulling back, “Really?”

“Of course,” Paul smiled at him, “Daryl, you’re my partner and the love of my life. Of course I’ll be your husband.”

“Gimme your hand,” Daryl said quickly, taking Paul’s left hand and slipping the ring onto his finger, “I got like…five ‘a those in case that one didn’t fit.”

“Well, it’s perfect,” Paul said, looking down at it before putting his hand down again so he didn’t fall, “Where did you get it?”

“Lootin’ with Aaron,” Daryl laughed under his breath, “Helped me pick it out…picked one out for Eric while we were there too.”

“And why am I _just_ hearing of this news?” Paul asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Shuddup and kiss me,” Daryl said, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him down again, causing him to lose his balance and fall, smacking their heads together.

“Shit,” Paul sat up, rubbing his forehead. He leaned back on Daryl’s bent legs, “That wasn’t very graceful.”

Daryl laughed, a real, loud laugh. He sat up, but made sure Paul stayed in his lap. He grabbed his hand and looked at the ring on it, “You’re my husband,” he said. It wasn’t a question this time. He was sure.

Paul Rovia was his husband.

“Yes, I do believe I am,” Paul smiled, watching him stare at his hand, “I’m your husband, Daryl.”

“Fuck, I love ya,” Daryl said, holding him close now but not kissing him, “Never gonna lose ya, Paul. Couldn’t,” he continued to ramble, holding onto him tightly, “Can’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” Paul smiled, resting his forehead on his, “We’re husbands. You’re stuck with me.”

“Don’t mind,” Daryl smirked, “Came to a conclusion, asshole.”

Paul raised an eyebrow, “Oh, really?” he asked, trying not to laugh at one of the first sentences Daryl had ever yelled at him being spoken so softly.

“Yeah,” Daryl nodded, not pulling away, “You an’ Richie’s the best thing that ever happened ta me…can’t believe I’d ever say it, but I’m glad the world went to hell.”

“Me too,” Paul said, resting his head on his shoulder, “I couldn’t imagine my life without you, Daryl Dixon.”

“Yeah,” Daryl said softly, “Couldn’t imagine it without ya either, Paul.”

Paul smiled and moved slightly and froze when he heard the plastic bow crunch. He reached back and grabbed it, holding it in front of Daryl, "Did you...?" he trailed off.

"Don't ruin the moment," Daryl said, kissing him. He took the bow while Paul was distracted and threw it across the room.

His husband pulled away and gave him a huge smile, “Merry Christmas, Daryl,” Paul said, his voice quiet.

“Merry Christmas, Paul,” Daryl whispered, resting his head on top of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly dedicated to my groupchat for putting up with my rambling and asking so many questions about this fic, but thank you to EVERYONE who read this fic. Happy holidays to you all!


End file.
